Finding Home
by x3paiger
Summary: NOW COMPLETE!... SEQUEL to "No Better Mistake"! After graduation, Remus and Sirius are living blissfully together, but new jobs and relationships bring challenges no one could have anticipated... M for sexuality/some language.
1. Chapter 1

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

We're backkkk!

I am very happy and excited to bring to you the next installment of this series (which is currently unnamed...)! It should all go really quickly, as I am done with the story.

I hope to get the same amount of great feedback as I did with NBM!

In case you were wondering, Peter is not in this at all...

Also - **important: **I guess you could consider this story AU. There is no Voldemort. Sorryyy...

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**1**

"Sirius, _stop."_

Remus Lupin edged further away from the long, tan fingers that were deftly grazing the underside of his arm. Book clutched to his chest, he fought to suppress the laugh that was making its way up his throat, pushing against the inside of his tightly pressed lips. He tucked his feet, which were bare, even further into his crossed legs, hoping they wouldn't be next. "_Stop,"_ he repeated, more firmly.

Sirius Black, a tall, thin, eighteen-year-old boy, grinned at him from behind his falling dark hair. He had long since abandoned the book Remus was now so desperately trying to cleave to, opting, instead, to torment his boyfriend. As Remus tried to scoot toward the end of the bed, Sirius grabbed him behind, yanking him back to where they sat together. In spite of himself, Remus grinned, reaching behind his head to try and hit Sirius over the head with the worn-out novel.

"_You_ stop," Sirius growled, sounding more like a dog than a human, wrenching the book away from Remus and throwing it down, pulling the other with him to sit back down on his bed. He wrapped his long legs around Remus' torso, who laughed, feeling Sirius pull his back into the front of his chest and wriggle his jaw into the space where Remus' shoulder and neck met. "N.E.W.T.s are over, Moony, stop trying to learn."

"_Stop _trying to distract me!" Remus countered, but he didn't make any real effort to extract himself from the arms that held him. He felt Sirius' chin, unshaven, scratch against his neck; Sirius' long hair fell forward to graze his chin, he could smell his breath, mint, chocolate, and smoke, as Sirius breathed lightly near his ear. Sirius' hands were pulled tight around his chest, so much that he could feel the heartbeat of the other boy through his back… The delicious feeling that was so distinctly Sirius…

"How about you _both _stop," growled James Potter, sighing, from across the room, looking up to glare at them both.

Sheepishly, Remus struggled to extricate himself against Sirius' grip as James continued: "before you make me sick. Come on, Lily and I are never _this _bad."

"He does have a point," Remus muttered, blushing, but Sirius ignored him, wrinkling his nose at his best friend from across the room and pulling his boyfriend even closer to him. James lobbed a shoe at them.

The three boys, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and James Potter, were all sitting in their dormitory in various states of packing and organizing. This explained that shoe James had at the ready, as well as Remus' book—he had re-discovered it as he tried to clean out his trunk. Sirius, the least prepared of the three, however, had barely moved a sock in any attempt to get ready for their departure from Hogwarts. As Remus had reminded him, though, he should be the most excited of them for the upcoming summer; after all, he was moving in to his own house, with Remus, as soon as they left, and had been speaking of nothing else since they'd ended their exams a few days ago.

It was a rather long, and strange story that explained how this (miracle, in Remus' opinion) had all actually happened. James, Sirius, Remus, and the fourth in their group, Peter, had all been friends since their very first year at Hogwarts, but it hadn't been until the past fall, shortly after the start of their seventh year, that Remus and Sirius had become _more _than friends. What had started as a stupid, drunken mistake had changed into their eventual confession of feelings for each other, and after hiding their relationship from James, and others, for several months, the secret that had desperately tried to keep had finally been discovered that past January. After hearing their side of the story, though, James had been very supportive, helped, in large part, to the girlfriend he had just mentioned; Lily Evans. Now, in mid-June, the friends were finally complete with their education, and it was only a few more days until they would climb back on to the Hogwarts Express for the seventh and final time.

All three of the young men in the room would be attempting to pursue their own careers and lives in the months that would follow their graduation. James would, to everyone's shock, begin living with Lily. At eighteen, they were young, but very committed to one another—very much like the newer, but equally as intense couple of Remus and Sirius. James, who was still unsure of what he wanted to do job-wise, was completely focused on his one and only clear goal. He had wasted no time in telling his friends—and seemed completely unashamed of it as well—that his main focus was to marry his girlfriend, and begin a family. James (though he had been, in the past, rather cocky about it) was quite a talented athlete, and he had been approached by a small local team to play Quidditch; so, for the next few months, he had some things to do. Despite the constant badgering by Professor McGonagall, the head of the Gryffindor House, to continue his Transfiguration studies, James seemed to want love, and companionship, more than anything else. Perhaps that, Remus mused, watching James turn once again to pack his trunk, was why he had been quick to accept the rather unorthodox relationship between his two best friends.

It seemed everything Remus had done this past year was like one big dream—from committing himself to the person he'd loved for years, to his new living situation, and now, the fact that Sirius and himself would attempt to get into the jobs they had fantasized over last summer as they'd lain in Remus' tall, grass fields. Sirius had an upcoming internship at the Ministry of Magic (he was trying to learn more about becoming an Auror), but, unfortunately, Remus had not been quite as successful in his endeavors to become a professor, due largely to the fact that he was quite young, and, by most people's standards, fairly dangerous, as he would be forced to tell employers that he was a werewolf. For the time being, he had plans to look for some sort of work near the home he was moving into in only a week's time.

Remus was pulled slightly away from his thoughts as he felt Sirius tug at his chest again, pulling him back down to lay on his bed. James scoffed from across the room, but as Remus saw him stifle a smile, he felt a rush of affection. Only a few days after discovering that the two were a couple (and had been for a number of weeks), James had been comfortable enough to see them climbing into the same bed at night—providing, of course, that they performed a few tricky charms around their drawn curtains. James, who was Sirius' best and closest friend (Sirius had even lived with James and his parents up until this summer), knew all too well just how excitable Sirius could be. It seemed like ages ago that Remus had lain awake at night, staring at the bed next to him, wishing he could climb in with the dark, gray-eyed boy lying near him. Because the two were not "out" to the majority of the school, it was a great relief to know that, at least within the confines of their old dormitory, they could be themselves.

Feeling Sirius' long hair fall over his eyes as Sirius made himself more comfortable, Remus felt utterly and completely content. Best friends, a fantastically sexy boyfriend, and the prospect of a new, fresh start had him in such a good state of mind that he felt nothing could bring him back down. Starting next week, his new life would begin—a new life filled with his friends, his goals, and hopefully—he grinned to himself—free range in the house to be with Sirius whenever he pleased.

A new life… A new home. Remus breathed in the smells and sounds of their dormitory, cherishing them, remembering all the good times they'd had… but, finally, after seven years, he was ready for something different. He was ready for something bigger, something better, and something, hopefully, filled with the most important people he'd ever known.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Beginnings... A bit of a recap, but - **thoughts? **Don't you love them as a real couple?


	2. Chapter 2

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

I'm so sorry it's been so long! I was out of town, and I forgot to upload this chapter to my document manager. I promise the next chapters will happen sooner!

My goal number of reviews for this story is really aiming big... I was thinking 250? That would be absolutely so, so amazing and we'll just see what happens!

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**2**

If Remus had hoped only for something new, or something bigger, the home he was now walking into would have left him extremely dissatisfied. It was hard for anything to look "new" when the tiny house looked like it had been built many decades ago, and as far as "bigger" went, the kitchen he'd just entered, which seemed to be scarcely the size of a matchbox, didn't leave much to the imagination. However, as Sirius scuffled in behind him, dropping boxes to the stained, tile floor, brushing his hair back and pulling him into a hug, Remus beamed. It may be old and miniscule, but it was _certainly_ better; it was home.

James stumbled in behind them, nearly knocking them over as he struggled to maneuver his way around the recently placed kitchen table. "What did you _put_ in this box, Sirius?" he gasped, lowering the cardboard down and removing his glasses to wipe them on his t-shirt. His brow, like the two other boys', glistened with perspiration on the stifling late June morning, and he lifted his shirt up, allowing air onto his stomach. Lily, who'd come in directly behind James, carrying a lamp and several bed sheets, also looked a bit disheveled—her red hair was falling out of her long braid, and she sighed, also dropping her things and making her way into the adjoining living room.

As James and Lily sat heavily down on the couch, Lily closing her eyes—Sirius joined them in a nearby chair, pulling off his shirt in the process—Remus continued to stand in the kitchen and look around. As they were nearing the end of their moving, he could now begin to see the way they were filling up the small rooms. Between himself and Sirius, they didn't have much in the way of furniture, but the hand-me-down sofas that their friends had crashed on looked fine, even if they were a little worn. The dishes they'd brought it may have been rather chipped—Sirius had even managed to break two plates on the way inside—but the light issuing in from the thrown-open windows cast the whole floor in a cheery, sunny glow. The entire house consisted of two floors: the first with a kitchen barely big enough for the table they'd squeezed in, the living room with its stone fireplace, and a hall closet; the second floor with stairs leading up to its only bedroom and bath. Sirius hadn't exaggerated the winter before on the size of the place—it was _small_—but it was obvious that he had gone for the size of land, rather than home, something that made Remus feel simultaneously grateful and guilty. The house was only a few miles away from town (an easy enough bike ride or Apparation) but far enough away that there was not much risk of neighbors encountering a deadly werewolf at the full moon. Sirius, who had seen Remus' face when they first approached the place, had also reminded him, grinning, of another reminder—one that had caused James to hit him about the head—that now, they could make as noise whenever they pleased, without anyone around to be bothered.

"I meant at the _full moon,"_ he'd told James, swinging to hit him back, but even Lily had rolled her eyes at the comment.

Leaving his friends downstairs, Remus climbed the creaking set of stairs into the real place he assumed Sirius, uh, "wanted to make noise" from_._ Although he was alone, he still blushed at this thought, but he couldn't deny that he was looking forward to it. James and Peter were nice enough not to be bothered about their relationship (they operated on a "don't ask, don't tell" policy of their intimate behavior), but to truly live together, to have the ability to _be_ with Sirius whenever he wanted… well, that was power. Remus was a bit embarrassed of the influence Sirius seemed to have over him; his whole persona, his body, and the way he made Remus feel was like some sort of a drug, and he couldn't seem to get enough of it. Sirius was the first, and only person Remus had slept with, but he was far from being bored or tired of him. In contrast, it seemed that every time he was with him, it furthered his desire.

James, Sirius, and Remus had all worked together to maneuver the mattress into the room (Lily following close behind with an ancient wooden dresser), which now sat directly on the floor without the addition of a bed frame, or headboard. The closet, a small, shelved opening, was already crammed with their clothing and shoes; Sirius' black motorcycle helmet glittering on an above shelf. While most of Remus' books were downstairs, a few had snuck their way up into the bedroom—stacks by the bedside table and on top of furniture. The adjoining bathroom wasn't much bigger than anything else, but Remus still looked interestedly at the curtain-drawn claw-foot tub. He couldn't look at a shower anymore without thinking of Sirius. It reminded him of the way Remus, alone, had berated himself after their first intimate (and, in Remus' case, drunken) encounter, and then how the two of them had stood, water running down their backs, together, the morning after they'd first made love, almost six months prior. Remus felt a small thrill of excitement as he remembered—_Sirius' hands on his stomach, feeling his hard, soap-covered chest press into his wet back, leaning back to kiss him…_

As if by magic, Remus felt, standing in the doorway, Sirius' hands reach around him, so much like his memory, embracing him from behind. As Remus felt the familiar stubble on his cheek, he smiled, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"What do you think of it?" Sirius murmured, finding Remus' hands and entwining his fingers with them.

"The bathroom?" Remus laughed, relishing even the smell of his boyfriend, feeling his still bare chest still damp with sweat. The windows in the room were open, like the one's downstairs, and Remus felt a slight breeze wave in. The combination of sweat, air, and Sirius made his arms prickle with goose bumps. The breeze disappeared within an instant, but his goose bumps remained, feeling Sirius' breath in his ear as he spoke again.

"The whole place," Sirius corrected, "Do you like it?"

"I do," Remus told him. Sirius, with his chin near Remus' shoulder, had hair falling down on Remus' chest, making it look like he was the one with long, black locks. It looked even darker than normal next to the plain, white shirt he wore, and he reached up to twist it absently. "I like it a lot, Padfoot."

"Mm," said Sirius absently, pulling Remus back slightly to fall on the still bare mattress behind them. As they kicked off their shoes, they, despite the heat, pressed closer together, so that Remus could hear Sirius' heartbeat, reverberating though his chest, against his ear. He felt Sirius' hands on the bottom of his t-shirt, and he lifted his arms to allow Sirius to remove it, an act that relieved him slightly of the thick, dense air. His straight, brown hair stuck damply to his forehead, and as Sirius pulled his chin toward his own for a kiss, he brushed it back impatiently; damp tendrils pushed away with the back of his hand.

It seemed that, despite the small room and stifling heat, Sirius' desire to be as close as possible to Remus could not be diminished…although Remus couldn't exactly complain. Remus gasped as Sirius sank his teeth into his neck, closing his eyes as he felt him already begin to kiss the obvious wound he had just made. Although he felt his hands on the front of Sirius belt buckle, pulling their hips closer together, he managed to maintain coherent thought.

"Lily and James," he panted, as Sirius' mouth bypassed his sweating neck and made its way further down his chest, "Sirius, they're downstairs—"

"They went home," Sirius muttered, flicking his tongue across a nipple, causing Remus to groan out loud, dropping his head back. "Done moving in everything, wanted to shower—"

The utterance of the word "shower" from Sirius' lips was all Remus needed to forget that James and Lily had ever been in their house at all, let alone mere minutes ago. He pulled Sirius by his belt on top of himself, crushing their bodies together in sweaty, jean-clad friction. His hands had found their familiar spot on the back of Sirius' head, tangled up his hair, and as Sirius moved up slightly to kiss his face again, his fingers moved from waving black hair to leather belt, struggling to unbuckle it due to his unwillingness to stop kissing. He felt Sirius bite down on his bottom lip, and he groaned again, finally managing to push Sirius' jeans down his hips and off his legs, dropping them to the groan in a pool of dark denim. Once he'd wriggled out of his own pants, he felt Sirius, with both hands, pull his body closer from where he lay, underneath the other, panting boy. Remus couldn't remember ever being this sweaty in his life, but Sirius seemed not to notice as he kissed him even deeper, pushing Remus even further into a hazy, dark oblivion.

His sharp hip bones and pelvis were crushed into Sirius'; the thin layers of undergarments between them doing nothing to disguise how badly they yearned for one another.

"_Fuck, _Remus—" Sirius moaned, sending Remus even further into his spiral. Somehow, the utterance of his own name, issuing forth from Sirius' full, parted lips in such a delirious moan made him near-crazy, and he ripped through the clothing that separated them to grasp Sirius in his hand, who was still hovering him over, one hand propping his body above Remus', the other now assisting him to pull off their remaining clothes. Sirius groaned even louder.

Between their damp hair, moans, and mergence of two sweaty, panting bodies, the two swam, Sirius' breath catching and falling more rapidly as Remus pushed him further and further into what was clearly ecstasy. They had flipped about so that Remus found himself on top of him, his mouth caught onto Sirius' exposed neck, feeling Sirius' nails on his chest as the older boy continued to groan his name. It had been so long—since the last Easter holidays, really, when everyone had gone home—that they had been really and truly alone, and Remus was not surprised that Sirius, who had been so eager to leave school, didn't last very long in his state. His moans were loud, and unfiltered as his whole body shook, and Remus lowered himself down to clean up the mess Sirius had made. He was nearly delirious himself just from the sounds they'd been making, and the feeling of Sirius' hands all over him, so it was no surprised that, when Sirius began to return Remus' recent favor, their session came to a quick, but intense end.

A few minutes later, as Remus' mind began to clear once again, he found himself breathing heavily beside Sirius. His still-sweating body was crushed into the crevices of Sirius' chest, legs curled like a child. Sirius was smiling slightly, his eyes shut, both hands wrapped around Remus' head and shoulders to curl the hair behind Remus' ears on his fingers. He sighed contentedly, now leaning forward slightly to kiss Remus on the forehead, which was still clammy with sweat.

"Now what?" he asked Remus simply. The light floating in from the opening windows had begun to dim slightly, casting the whole, mostly unfurnished room in a somewhat pinkish glow. Remus felt shaky, and sticky with perspiration and the rest of what connected them. He shivered again, slightly, as Sirius ran a finger down his cheek, tracing the near-invisible scar that was there—the scar he'd received the day before his birthday last year; a mere twenty-four hours before he had kissed Sirius for the first time. The scar was a reminder of how much things had changed, and, to Sirius, a mark of how deep his affection was—he loved every scar, every bruise, and every imperfection on Remus' body. Each slight flaw reminded him of their nights together, transformed as two large dogs, and, prior to their relationship, the only times Sirius had seen Remus lose control.

Remus let his eyes stray across the room, toward the open staircase, the tiny closet, and then, to the open bathroom door where he'd stood just shortly before. The brass, claw-footed tub glittered in the corner of his eye, and he let his gaze fall back onto Sirius' face, who was smiling at him.

"How about a shower?" he asked, grinning once again.

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I hope that made up for my lateness! Please, tell me what you think! : )


	3. Chapter 3

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Not much to say here! I will update quickly, because this chapter is sort of short. Please let me know your thoughts!

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**3**

It was strange how Remus, in a new home, far away from school, in the summer heat was so reminded of the previous, frigid Hogwarts winter over the next few days. It seemed, like it had then, that he was in a walking dream—no one else around to disrupt him from his time with Sirius, no _real _work to do… as long as you didn't count the various boxes still left unpacked, which always seemed to be abandoned halfway through, interrupted by an afternoon nap or romp, every time Remus tried to start opening them. It took him a whole day to unpack the tiny living room, despite the fact that it was barely big enough for the furniture they'd squished into it, mostly because he found himself constantly distracted by the image of Sirius just outside the window, washing his motorcycle. It was obvious that no one had lived in the house for quite some time—but the two, with the aid of several of Remus' books, were becoming quite proficient in household spells. Unfortunately though, neither of the two boys knew how to cook much of anything, but Remus found himself surprisingly willing to eat whatever Sirius made, especially because the heat in the kitchen typically caused Sirius to make it shirtless. He was like a school-aged child with a big crush, expect that Sirius was his, all his, and he didn't have to hide his gaze as he watched Sirius cross the room. However, their many years of friendship created another layer of their relationship. When they weren't caught up in an embrace, or, as Remus often did, gazing wordlessly at the other's back, they functioned as old friends, comfortable as ever just in their own skins.

A few days after their friends had helped them move in, they both were in the kitchen, attempting to prepare a recipe for soup that James and Lily had sent by owl. Remus was absentmindedly stirring a pot on the stove across the room with the aid of his wand; Sirius was chopping vegetables on the counter, not trusting himself to do it with magic. It was difficult to take this task seriously as they had spent most of the day doing very little, and due largely to the fact that most of what they had eaten over the past few days consisted of cold cereal and alcohol, which seemed to be all they'd brought in terms of food.

"Does it look like it's a full boil?" asked Remus, squinting his eyes to try and peer into the pot, but making no efforts to stand up. He deftly dodged a potato that Sirius flicked at him, who turned around to stare into it as well.

"Dunno how you can see anything from over there," Sirius laughed, prodding the fire underneath in an attempt to further warm the still water.

"I can't," yawned Remus, abandoning the task by setting his wand down and lowering his head onto his arms, "we're rubbish at this stuff, Sirius."

"Too true," Sirius agreed, grinning, also leaving his roughly cut vegetables on the counter. He flopped down in the seat next to Remus, which, as usual, creaked massively under the addition of his weight. They both waited a minute to see if it would remain in one piece, and when it did, Sirius continued, "we need a girl here."

Remus raised his eyebrows at Sirius, who hastily corrected himself. "Er—not that it's only women who are good at cooking—or that I want a woman here, instead…" Remus laughed at him, and Sirius quickly changed the subject: "I start that job at the Ministry tomorrow, you know."

Remus picked his head up off his arms, bracing his chin on his fist and looking thoughtful. He had known this, of course, but realizing the magnitude of it was another matter altogether. "I can't believe it's so soon," he admitted, gazing across the table. Becoming an Auror was an extremely dangerous, extremely well-respected, and extremely dignified job—and, at the moment, Sirius didn't look any one of those things. In the heat, he was wearing dirty, cuffed-up jeans and an old t-shirt; his hair, which probably hadn't been washed that day, falling out of the messy gathering Sirius had pulled it up into. His hands were somewhat stained with grease from his bike; his dirty fingernails cut and bitten down to nubs. Remus knew he didn't look much better—he was dressed in a very similar way, looking equally as unclean—but he, at least, wasn't about to walk into the Ministry of Magic. He was about to point this out to Sirius, to ask him what he was going to do about it, when Sirius spoke again.

"The letter said to look professional," he growled, wrinkling his nose, and Remus had to suppress a smile. Sirius despised having to look more formal than denim; only ever putting up with their school uniform because he had too, and looking nice for James' parents because he cared. Even in those occasions, he'd always found some way to remain comfortable; whether it was "misplacing" his tie, wearing his old, battered Chuck Taylors, or somehow always forgetting to shave. Sirius had a good amount of thick, dark hair, both on his face and head; so that his long, waving hair was another point of contention. Remus couldn't ever remember it being as short as his own, or James'. Even when they were first-years Sirius had refused to cut it, probably as an act of independence against his clean-cut, Slytherin family, and since the time they were fourteen, even when it was obvious that Sirius needed a razor daily, he'd refused too. However, despite this, Remus knew Sirius had the clothes and the ability to look nice if he tried; as he now kindly told him.

"Thanks," he responded, nudging Remus on the arm. "I'm sort of apprehensive about this whole thing in general," he admitted, pulling his hair out of its tail and shaking it out onto his shoulders. "I don't really know what to expect."

"You'll be fine," Remus reassured him, smiling. He was quite sure that Sirius had all the desired skills to become an Auror. He was brave, of course, and despite his varied school marks, really very intelligent, as he had shown in their N.E.W.T. exams, scraping up nearly identical marks to Remus, who had studied like mad. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been his best subject. He had even admitted to Remus that he had been the one to notice the patterns in Remus' behavior that led him to discover his secret; and he had always been the most patient with Remus as he was in his werewolf state. Even Sirius' Animagus form was astounding—he had been the first to achieve the full transformation, with his change hilariously similar to the large constellation of which he was the namesake. Unfortunately, these were achievements he couldn't share with the teachers of Hogwarts, who, up until their last year, had typically regarded him as somewhat of a class clown. "They picked you for a reason, Sirius, you know that."

"Yeah," said Sirius, but he didn't sound too convinced. He rose from his chair again, turning back to the now somewhat wilting greens. "This is bullshit," he remarked, looking from his sad-looking vegetables to Remus' still-cold pot of water, "what do you say we just go bother Lily and James?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Remus, and he was happy to see Sirius' grin beginning to return. Thinking it might be a bit rude to just Apparate in, they both made their way into the living room, and a few sparks from their wands were all it took to bring the stone fireplace into roaring flames. Sirius took the pot of Floo Powder from the mantle, and, throwing a generous quantity of the dust in, yelled the address of Lily and James' house in the wizarding settlement of Godric's Hollow. Kneeling down, both Sirius and Remus stuck their heads into the now green flames, their gazes shifting very suddenly from their own battered home to that of their friends.

"Hello," called Lily pleasantly, gazing at the two of their heads being licked by the acid-colored flames. "You look… dashing."

Remus looked over again at Sirius, now noticing that Sirius had a spring of parsley on his chin, but chose to ignore it as Sirius spoke. "We were wondering… could we bother you for a bit of supper?"

"What happened to the soup?" Lily frowned.

"Uh—" Remus faltered. Lily was sitting in her own living room, several miles away, reading a book and looking extremely well-kempt, especially compared to the two heads in her fire. Remus was very aware that his hair, uncombed, was sticking to his forehead. "It didn't quite work out."

James, who was sitting beside Lily, laughed. Lily, turning to him, also cracked a smile. "Oh, come on, then," she said, and Remus and Sirius, edged their way into the room, standing up as they emerged from the flames.

"But don't make a habit of it!" she called as she walked toward the kitchen. "I can't be making food for all four of us, you know! It's not like James has any idea what to do…" She left to retrieve the food, leaving Sirius and Remus to take their seats on the sofa. James looked at both of them, running a hand through his already-mused hair.

"Same time next week, then?" he asked, grinning.

"Isn't it great to be an adult?" responded Sirius, stretching his bare feet onto the coffee table.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Dialogue has been a big thing in this story for me - lots of reading out loud to myself and my friend Taylor to see how it sounds! How do you like it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Where is everyone? : ( Exams, I suppose! I hope everyone isn't stressing out too badly, for those in school.

ANYWAY, I definitely appreciate any feedback you're willing to give... because I have a **surprise.** Rest assured that anything you say will go to good use! Trust me...

Also, there is an OC in this chapter, but don't worry - it's not really a big character.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**4**

Remus took it upon himself to wake Sirius up the next morning, knowing from many years experience just how late the boy could let himself sleep if he really wanted too. Siriu was clearly a bundle of nerves (despite what he kept repeating to Remus); his eyes snapping open as Remus shook him gently on the shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he hissed, his gray eyes round, shooting straight up in bed as Remus chuckled to himself.

An embarrassed Sirius let Remus to guide him into the shower, cheering up slightly as he reluctantly allowed Remus to pour shampoo onto his head. He had to stand on the tips of his feet to before the job, but Remus was determined—he was typically the more submissive one in their relationship, and he didn't usually take such a care-giving role, however, today was a unique day. It was hard not to get distracted by Sirius' wet, soap-covered chest, but he resolutely ignored Sirius' attempts to kiss him to make sure that Sirius, for once, looked a proper gentlemen. As Sirius grumpily shaved over the bathroom sink, Remus found himself gathering up what he thought was appropriate; finding socks just in time as the other boy emerged from the bathroom, his hair still wet, but looking significantly more prepared.

In boxer shorts and a t-shirt, Remus watched as Sirius put on his "professional" clothing. Remus couldn't stop him from wearing his old shoes, but, for the most part, he looked nice—clean, well-tailored pants, a nice shirt, and tie. They stumbled downstairs, and as Remus as poured them bowls of cereal, Sirius looked at him over the rim of his coffee mug.

"What are you going to do today, Moony?" he asked. Remus pushed the cereal toward him, along with several packets of sugar—Sirius hated his coffee black—and shrugged.

"Go look for work in town, I suppose," he said, picking up a handful of the dry cereal and crunching down upon it. "And I'll buy milk," he added quickly as Sirius looked down at his own bowl.

"Good idea," a rather green Sirius mumbled. Remus didn't think he could recall ever seeing Sirius like this. He was, as the teachers at Hogwarts had often complained, quite a cocky (Sirius preferred "confident") individual. The prospect of working at the most important government institution—and, the horribleness of wearing a tie, which Sirius continued to tug at—seemed to be making him more anxious than ever before. Remus reached across the table to pull his hand away, taking it in his own.

"You'll be _fine,"_ he said, again, and Sirius managed a weak smile. With a last look at the clock, he muttered a hasty goodbye to his boyfriend, kissing him on the cheek, and then Apparated off. Though the Ministry wasn't far away, Remus had insisted Sirius not take his bike, which, he now thought had been a rather smart move. After a quick trip upstairs for some jeans and the rest of his things, Remus set off himself, thankful for magic to take him the several miles into the main drag of town.

On the early weekday morning, the streets of the town were still fairly quiet; only a few people walked to and from, wanting, like Remus was, to get their business done early. It was no Hogsmeade, but Remus was sure he saw several signs of magic in a number of shop windows. He was certain he'd read a sign for "Self-Inking, Spell-Checking Quills" in a display case for an office supply store; and he could have sworn he saw movement in the rows of treats of a chocolate shop. As he made a mental note to check _that _particular store out, another, smaller storefront caught his eye, and he edged toward it, intrigued.

Like most of the stores on the street, it was an older-looking front; the brass letters stamped out the name of the bookstore looked weathered, and the shop itself couldn't have been much larger than the house Remus now lived in. However, a small, hand-lettered sign reading _Help Wanted_ had been placed in the window, and Remus pushed the door open, the small chimes attached to it crinkling merrily.

He could tell right away, from the moment he walked in, that a wizard or witch, ran this store. Magic, when used frequently or powerfully, left traces, and it hummed throughout the room like a hazy, pleasant fog. Looking up, Remus could see that the shop consisted of several, fairly small floors; tight staircases leading up to, for Remus, what looked like heaven. The shop was so crammed with books—leather-bound books, carefully labeled books of magic, blank books, fictional novels, biographies—it made his head spin. Tucked amongst the many shelves were several areas of overstuffed armchairs, or tired-looking pillows, clearly positioned and at the ready for the shopper to sit, take their time, and enjoy what they were reading. At the far end of the shop was a corner desk with an old cash register, also heaped with piles of multi-colored journals.

"Hello?" Remus called, looking around curiously. He hadn't seen any hours posted outside the shop, but had assumed by the unlocked door that it was open, however, now that he was inside, there didn't seem to be anyone around. Still standing near the door, he gently examined a novel beside him, flicking open the pages to glance at the inside cover. He could spend hours in this place if properly supplied by next-door's chocolates, but he reluctantly placed the book back, about to leave, when—

"Hello!" called a voice from upstairs, and Remus heard the sounds of someone scuttling down. A small woman, her arms quivering with the weight of the volumes she carried, was making her way down the wooden steps. Quickly, Remus hurried over to her.

"Here," he said hastily, reaching out to her, "let me take some of those, please—"

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, tipping a few into his open arms, and the two made their way through the rows to the back desk. "It is such a large place for me, you know…"

"That's actually why I came in," Remus admitted as the woman settled herself behind her cash register, adjusting her glasses back on her nose. She was an older woman, but her hair was only beginning to gray, despite the obvious wrinkles and laugh lines around her nose and mouth. She was short, and rather soft, but she looked good-natured, although somewhat frazzled. She seemed somewhat confused as she reached around him, obvious looking for something they had just sat down.

"Oh?" she murmured, still turning over books to look for what she wanted. "You want to work? Here it is—" she flipped open the novel she'd searched for, her eyes quickly scanning the page before looking back up again at Remus. "Well, who are you?"

"Oh," said Remus, surprised, "Er, my name is Remus Lupin. I just finished at Hog—er, at school." He wasn't sure if it would be appropriate yet to say the name of his school, although he was quite sure the woman was a witch. The coffee cup beside her seemed to be stirring itself, after all, and she had a copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ tucked just under notepad.

"Did you now?" she said interestedly, surveying him up and down, "no wonder you look so young. Hogwarts?" Remus nodded. "Do you live around here, then?"

"Yes," he answered, now taking a seat across from her, "only a few miles away."

"Do you like to read, Remus?" she asked him, intrigued, as she leaned over her desk to squint further at him. She seemed to be sizing him up somewhat, and Remus wished that, after making so sure that Sirius had gone off looking presentable, that he had done the same.

"Yes, I do," he told her, "very much so. My father actually owns a bookstore as well; though it's mostly historical stuff."

"No wonder your name sounded familiar," she said, turning again to her book and cash register, "I know that shop. I'm Doris, by the way," she told him, and he nodded. "Well, Remus," she continued, "our store here may be a lot of work for me, but it's really not that high-maintenance. We get a few stragglers, but what mostly keeps her going is the regulars."

As if just by uttering these words she had released some sort of signal, Remus heard the door behind him chime once more, and turned around to see a boy and a girl, looking a few years older than him, enter.

"Hello Doris," called the girl, and the older woman smiled at her, nodding as the two walked up the stairs, their footsteps disappearing as they went higher.

"Folks like that," she said, waving a hand toward the door, "Nice folks. Do you know what I mean?"

"Uh—" said Remus, not quite sure how to answer her question, "Yes—I mean, I think so."

"Hmm," she squinted at him again, then nodded, smiling. "Alright, then. I'm getting too old for this all by myself. I'd like to come in once, maybe twice a week. You think you could handle the rest?"

"Yes," Remus breathed, hardly daring to believe his luck. One stop, and he was done? The shop seemed nearly deserted; a fantastic place to sit, all day, and read until he could come home to Sirius. He couldn't imagine the place would stay open very late, and it seemed like the perfect place for Remus to work. He wouldn't even have to tell Doris that he was a werewolf, because he couldn't imagine when his nightly gallivants would be of any importance to this old woman and her shop.

"You come in at nine o'clock, then," she said, as if this settled the matter. "I'll leave a note for you."

"Okay," said Remus, and he felt a grin beginning to form on his face. Doris looked over at him again, and she too, smiled kindly at him.

"Well, go on, then!" she said, ushering him out, "and don't be late tomorrow!"

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

There's something I love about them just... hanging out, having regular lives.

**I want to tell you guys my secret! So let me know what you think... and help me reach my 250 goal? : D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

More, more, moreee. I'm glad you guys didn't mind my OC (although she's not a big deal), because there's another OC coming up! **Thanks, thanks, thanks** for all your feedback. Now that I have time (I'm at home) I'm going to try and respond to reviews and all of that.

Here comes some drama!

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**5**

"So, it just happened?" Sirius asked, grinning at Remus over dinner that night. In honor of Sirius' first day, Remus had attempted to cook the easiest thing he knew how—pasta—and the two were sitting side-by-side at the dinner table, enjoying the substantial, even if somewhat overcooked, noodles. Remus was telling him of the apparent gain of a job, something that neither of them had anticipated would happen so quickly, nor in such an ideal location

"Yep," said Remus, taking a gulp of the wine—another treat—he'd purchased after leaving Doris' bookshop. Finally, he was becoming more used to the taste, and although he still didn't like it as much as Sirius, he had finally managed to figure out to drink without being drunk. "But, enough about that," he said, impatiently, "what about you? How was the Ministry?"

"Kind of boring for now, actually," admitted Sirius. He had been home scarcely a quarter of an hour, just long enough to badly cut up a salad for Remus' pasta, but already he was stripped down to his t-shirt, the tie and button-down he'd worn earlier than day strewn over their living room couch. "A lot of people talking to us, some paperwork and stuff. There's about a dozen in the group."

"So did they tell you what you're in for?" Remus asked, intrigued. Sirius shrugged.

"The test you've got to take to become an Auror—it's all going to be preparing for that. Kind of like practical lessons, that's why they'll be having us do; all sorts of stuff. Charms, disguises, you name it."

"Sounds pretty serious," said Remus without thinking, and he instantly regretted as the other boy immediately said: "No, _I'm _Sirius—"

Remus retaliated by throwing a noodle at him, which Sirius delicately picked off his chest and ate. He rolled his eyes. In so many ways, Sirius was the incredibly sexy man he had fallen for, but in others, he was just like the eleven-year-old Remus had first met. However, he balanced his moment of immaturity by leaning across the table and kissing Remus, using a hand to softly grasp his chin and cheek.

"What was that for?" Remus asked as they broke apart, letting himself feel the five o'clock shadow that now graced Sirius' jaw line. Their kitchen smelled like an old mix of tomato sauce and cigarette smoke that had floated in through the open window, negating Remus' insistence that if Sirius were going to continuing smoking, it had to be outside. Sirius shrugged again. Startled, Remus realized, very swiftly, how old they had very suddenly becoming. Although it seemed like only yesterday that they had sat in Potions class, flicking ingredients at the back of Snape's head, now they were adults, with jobs, and a house. Even Sirius, after only a day of real work, looked somewhat tired. Inches away from his face, Remus could see his own reflection in Sirius' steel gray eyes, but he let his eyelids fall down as he kissed Sirius again, this time relishing the taste of Sirius' mouth, the feeling of their lips brushing together. When they broke apart for the second time, Sirius was smiling again, and, to Remus' relief, he looked no older than he had a year, or even a few weeks ago.

"You were right, too, about the whole professional thing," he told Remus, turning, once more, to his plate of pasta, Remus doing the same. "I felt like a prat this morning, but it was fine."

"I'm glad," Remus responded. Looking over, he could tell Sirius was no longer interested in dinner, and, if he were honest with himself, neither was he. He stood up from the table, and, with a wave of his wand, cast the unfinished plates into the sink.

"What's up?" Sirius asked, a grinning crossing his face as he stood up with Remus, who, without hesitation, leaned in to kiss him for the third time in only a few minutes. He was quickly pulled tightly in, the gaps between their hips closing, and he could feel Sirius' smile—as well as another important part of his anatomy—grow as they continued to embrace.

"I love you," said Remus easily, and Sirius' grin increased further.

"You going to make up for teasing me this morning?" growled Sirius, eyes shut, his lips still against Remus', who laughed, pulling himself away and dragging Sirius, by the hand, onto the living room couch.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

The next morning followed very similarly to the one before it, but although Sirius was much more reluctant to actually wake, he didn't complain as he, once again, was forced to shave his face and don nicer clothing. He was attempting to make scrambled eggs from the groceries Remus had purchased as Remus quickly bathed, so that by the time he got downstairs, hair still dripping, there was a crude, but edible plate before him.

"I'm impressed," said Remus, stifling a yawn as he picked up his fork. Sirius grinned at him from across the kitchen, clearly proud of his accomplishment. Setting down the spatula and pan, he walked quickly over to Remus, checking his watch.

"I'm glad you like them," he said, "could you do this, please?" he was gesturing to the tie around his neck, leaning over the table as Remus reached up to adjust it. It was a common routine between the two of them, and Remus, despite being tired, smiled as he remembered the most memorable occasion that Sirius had asked him to do so, just before their confession…

_"Could you help me with this? I'm rubbish at tying them…" Sirius gestured to the striped tie that hung limply around his neck, and Remus moved forward to grasp the fabric. Suddenly, the frantic rush to get ready stopped. Time froze as Sirius squatted slightly on his long legs to allow him better access, and carefully, Remus made the knots around Sirius' neck. His nose was inches away from the boy's jaw line, who smelled like shaving cream, and recognizable cologne. He was aware of Sirius' soft, minty breath that was fluttering his hair away from his forehead, but he resolutely ignored it, and finished the tie before backing away from his friend, his heart skipping a beat…_

It seemed that Sirius was also recalling this moment, as he was grinning as Remus muttered, "seven years, Padfoot, and you still can't tie a tie…?"

"Nope," Sirius kissed him quickly, then checked his watch once more, "I've got to go," he said, hastily shoving his feet into the shoes that stood in the corner of the room. "Good luck, today!" he added, casting a final glance at Remus before he turned on the spot and vanished.

With a final look at his scrambled eggs, Remus followed suit, grabbing his things and vanishing too, off for his first day of work.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Sirius struggled to regain his balance as he Apparated directly into the Ministry. The last thing he needed, he thought ruefully, was someone to see him stumble first thing in the morning. It was bad enough being in his situation at his new job, he didn't need to cause himself any more embarrassment…

Sirius hadn't been completely honest with Remus about what had happened the day before. True, there _had _been a lot of boring paperwork, and a lot of discussion of the months to come—but what he hadn't mentioned to his boyfriend was the very obvious isolation of himself amongst the group. The Blacks were an extremely prominent, though rather evil, wizarding family, who donated a great amount to many Ministry departments yearly, and though they had tried to keep their eldest son's betrayal a secret, word had gotten around. Sirius felt as though he might have been walking about with "traitor" tattooed across his forehead—higher-up officials looked down upon him, knowing his differences from his family, and other wizards and witches look after him curiously, the looks they exchanged saying, clearly, that they could see why this grungy, long-haired boy had been exiled from such an important group. Sirius, who had always had James to back him up, and their ever-present pranks to make him relatable and popular, suddenly found himself in a situation where being a clown would get him nowhere. He was more aware than ever of how different he was in a group such as the interns. It was obvious that a great majority of them had gotten into the job through money; obvious by the clothes they wore, and by the way they had looked down at Sirius' battered shoes as if they were covered in dragon dung. Suddenly, Sirius wasn't the handsome, easy-going friend at Hogwarts—he was a moneyless, dirty-looking little boy, and it was clear to everyone that he didn't fit in. It was true that Sirius was intelligent—and the actual Aurors didn't seem to care about his past, or his money—but for now, without James or Remus there to relate too, he was shocked to find himself as the black sheep of the group, more desperate that he cared to admit to anyone to fit in.

Still, Sirius was never one to let anyone see him sweat, and he knew all too well the power of a good attitude—so he fixed a smile on his face as he strode across the Ministry floor, nodding a hello at anyone who looked his way. He was more thankful than ever at Remus' insistence that he shave his face, or wear a tie even though it wasn't technically required—but as he climbed onto the elevator with several other members of his class, he found his hands nervously pulling at the tight knot around his neck. He breathed in deeply, checking his watch again—the watch, he remembered gratefully, had been a gift from James and his parents, the dark, purple tie a present from Remus when he'd found out he'd gotten the job. These articles of clothing reassured him somewhat, but he still found his fingers pulling at the strangling garment.

A young man, looking to be about the same age as Sirius, grinned at him from his left side. He was one of the obviously rich interns—his thick, blonde hair was sleek, and cut just short enough; and he too was dressed professionally, though he didn't seem to be having the discomfort that Sirius was.

"Your tie?" he asked, by way of a question, and Sirius nodded. He—though he knew it was probably just paranoia—felt like all eyes in the small elevator were looking his way. "My girlfriend always ties them too tight for me."

Avoiding the gaze of the other eyes he was sure was upon him, Sirius turned to look at the boy beside him. He had seen him, yesterday, fail miserably at producing a full Patronus, and yet, for some reason, he still felt an urge to relate to him. He was a loud figure of the class, easily recognizable, broad-shouldered and thick—more than ever, Sirius felt skinny and dark beside him. He cleared his throat, smiling at him.

"Yeah," he said, responding quickly, "my girlfriend always does, too."

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

dun dun DUHHHH! **LIES, SIRIUS... LIES!**

**oh, I almost forgot!**

The "surprise" is this: you all know I'm already done with this story, so...

I'm writing a third.

I'm sure it's not a shock, but I'm sure excited!


	6. Chapter 6

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Here comes the main OC of the story (based on a guy I know by the same name). Hope you like him, because he's throughout this one, and the **third!**

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**6**

Remus' first, second, third, and onward days at his new job all seemed to meld together into one long, comfortable afternoon. From the initial morning that he approached the shop, found Doris' note and key under her doormat ("High security here," he'd muttered to himself as he unlocked the front door), he had become basically the main employee of the shop by the first few weeks he'd worked. It hadn't taken him any time at all to begin to recognize the "regulars" Doris had mentioned to him, but during his downtime (which he had a lot of), he attempted to clean and re-organize the shop, hoping, by modernizing it a little, he could bring in a few more shoppers. His strategy seemed to be working somewhat; he'd chosen a few of his favorite novels to display in the windows, and they, as well as his friendly attitude toward whoever entered, seemed to be doing the trick. By his first few weeks there, Doris had happily told him that he'd helped her make more money there in that time than in the last three months, and so Remus sat, rather happily one Thursday afternoon, behind his desk and re-reading Sirius' birthday gift from last year.

The past month has brought several new, easy routines to Remus and Sirius' lives. Nights were spent trying to improve their cooking skills—which usually ended in going over to Lily and James', burnt food, or fits of laughter on their worn-out couch—and falling into bed at night, cuddling, or sometimes making love until they fell asleep in each other's arms. After only a few hours they were forced to wake, trying _again _to cook and then Apparating off to their separate jobs to start over. Sirius seemed to be finding more comfort in his internship, and he was becoming less and less reluctant to dress up—at some point, Remus stopped having to pick out the clothes that matched for him, though Sirius still insisted, every morning that he wore and had Remus do up, a tie. Only on the weekends did he still go without shaving, or wear anything other than button-downs, slacks, or suits. Although they were both accustomed to seeing Sirius in the traditional Hogwarts uniform, it was still slightly jarring to see Sirius, looking as formal as a funeral, go off to work everyday. As if to compensate, Remus felt himself going the opposite direction in terms of his appearance. By the end of June, with another full moon approaching, he was in desperate need of a haircut, but since sleeping usually became an issue around this time of month, he couldn't be bothered to do much about it.

Sitting behind the desk, Remus' thoughts were not completely within the novel he was reading for about the tenth time. His mind was, instead, embarrassingly absorbed in the actions of himself and Sirius earlier that morning. Sirius had gotten home late the night before, coming into the house, and up to their bedroom to find Remus already passed out on their bed. Sirius had kindly snuggled down beside him to sleep, but the following morning had seen the repercussions of Remus' early bedtime. Sirius had pulled a still-groggy Remus into an already hot, steaming shower and there, he had proceeded to wake up him _extremely _quickly. They had spent so much time in the scalding water, in fact, that they were both nearly late to leave—Remus, as a result, not even realizing that the crumpled pair of jeans he'd pulled on from the closet were Sirius' until he was walking into the shop. As a result, the legs he propped up on the counter were encased in denim cuffed several times over, but his tattered cardigan, which was his own, still hung largely around his bony torso in the somewhat drafty shop.

Remus heard the door chimes go off, breaking him instantly from his daydream, but he was not upset when he saw who had entered. The two he had seen on his first day were, indeed, regular customers at the shop—the boy, at least, came in every day, to sit for hours, reading books with a cup of coffee from the chocolate shop next door, usually buying at least one or two new things before Remus closed for the night. He had introduced himself the first week as Matthew, and now, spotting Remus in the corner, he made his way over to the desk, slipping narrowly in between the still-towering columns of books.

Setting down his book, Remus was glad that Matt, a very studious boy who had left Hogwarts a few years before him, couldn't read his thoughts. As they were both so frequently in the store, they had begun to develop something of a friendship—Matt seemed extremely interested in what Remus was doing in a small town like this, and was more than happy to sit with him for several hours, discussing their favorite authors and their general lives. He was quite good-looking, in his own way (though he was no Sirius Black, Remus thought ruefully as he surveyed him), with springy, chestnut-colored curls and brown eyes of a similar hue. It was remarkable how, like James, Matt could wear dark-framed glasses, but, in Remus' humble opinion, look much less like the prat as Sirius often teased James of being. Maybe it was because he wasn't constantly pushing them up on his nose that that they looked more a part of his face, or maybe it was just the absence of James' constant hair-musing. Perhaps as a result of the heat earlier in the month, it was already beginning to cool off outside, and Matt, who, like Remus, was used to the temperature in the shop, wore jeans and a slightly unbuttoned plaid shirt. As always, he carried a notepad and several pens with him—he had told Remus, the first week they met, that he was an aspiring writer, and the reason he came every day to read was to get new ideas for the novel he was working on.

"Hey Remus," he said, grinning at him as he took his usual seat across the desk. Remus smiled back at him. As unpleasant as it was to be disturbed from his daydreams of Sirius, covered in soap, and the thought of the barely-concealed bruises he'd left under Sirius' collar, he could hardly argue over the intrusion. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Remus politely, accepting the cup of tea the other boy extended toward him. Matt was also a "regular" next door, and once he'd learned that Remus greatly enjoyed his tea, he would often bring a cup along with him. "How's the book coming?"

"Oh," Matt waved a hand, rolling his eyes, as if writing a novel were the least of his concerns, despite the fact that it was his one, and only job. "It's coming, you know. I've hit something of a block. I'm not really sure where to take this character next."

"Mmm," said Remus, taking a sip of his hot tea instead of responding. He liked Matt very much, and he enjoyed the company, but he had to admit that he was sometimes a bit hard to understand, especially when he'd told Remus that the reason for his current unemployment was because a job might "stifle his creative flow". Though he hadn't expressed it, he was a bit shocked that Matt wasn't currently in his job position, as he seemed to have an awful lot of free time to hang about. "Can't help you there, I suppose."

"What are you reading?" asked Matt suddenly, taking the book off the counter where Remus had left it. He flipped through the pages, interested, and Remus blushed as he watched him pause on the book's back cover, obviously reading the message Sirius had inscribed to him there. It had been nearly a year prior, during the time that they were still "just friends", that Remus had found the words, untidily scrawled: "_Moony, hope your birthday is fantastic. You deserve all the best… You're the greatest friend I've ever known, and I would hate to ever lose you. Padfoot"._

"You're—'Moony'?"

"Just a weird nickname," Remus said hastily.

"Who is Padfoot, then?" Matt asked, intrigued, staring over the book to look at Remus, who was still blushing.

"My friend," he said shortly, looking back down at his tea to avoid the other's gaze, and stirring it with a finger. "You know, Sirius. My roommate."

Much like at Hogwarts, Remus and Sirius, though they hadn't had a real discussion about it, typically chose to remain somewhat non-descriptive about their relationship. Unless they were confident about who they were speaking too, Remus chose to take a path of assumed relationships, simply offering as little detail as possible. He hadn't hidden from Matt that he had a male roommate (they frequently discussed Remus' friends, in fact), and he hadn't pretended like he had any sort of female partner—he just chose, as always, to omit certain details of his relationship with Sirius, who, truthfully, _was_ both his friend and roommate. The idea of discussing Sirius as his boyfriend, and consequently, talking about his sexuality, was embarrassing to him, and so, as Matt grinned at him again, he chose to keep his gaze averted.

"I see," he said illusively, closing the novel again and setting it back down, "he sounds like a nice guy, Sirius." Matt didn't know the real lengths of their relationship—from the intimate details to the fact that Sirius illegally transformed into a dog to aid Remus' shift into a werewolf monthly, but still, he seemed to have gotten the general idea of Sirius' character. It had taken Remus several years to admit to his closest friends much of his secrets, and he wasn't about to change that way of thinking for someone he still barely knew, though Matt had told him an awful lot about himself. However, the talk of Sirius sent Remus' mind, once again, back on his daydreams, and he struggled to keep a grin off his face.

"He is," said Remus, forcing his mind to remain on the conversation they were having, and not slip back again into images from that morning. "He's a great friend—good roommate, too… Expect we're both dreadful at cooking anything."

Matt laughed, "I'm quite a good cook, you know," he said, "we should hang out sometime, outside of here. I could teach you a few things."

Something in his tone made Remus blush, and for a reason he couldn't understand, he quickly adjusted his legs so that they were back under the desk. For a second, he had suddenly felt like the too-long jeans were a banner to display his secrets, because the way Matt was looking at him was showing him that he knew something Remus didn't. There was no way Matt could know the real level of his friendship with Sirius—or that he would even care—but in typical fashion, Remus didn't feel like he trusted him enough to really let him in on it. Instead, he quickly changed the subject back to Matt's book, which he was happy enough to go on about for the next hour or so, leaving Remus to zone in and out of his daydreams until he had to close up the shop for the evening.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Love that image of him in Sirius' jeans... So what do you think of this flirty fella? and the upcoming story #3? :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

And sooo.. the real drama has begun. Sirius is lying, Remus is meeting a flirty guy... We'll see how this all goes down. : P Full moon!

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**7**

"Full moon tonight," said Sirius, first thing, as he Apparated into their living room later that evening. "Hello," he amended, crossing the room to hug Remus, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, writing a letter back home. "Sorry, but it's all I've been thinking about all day. First time in the new place."

"I know," said Remus, as if he had needed any reminding. He, too, was obviously nervous about the transformation that would occur in a few hours time. He knew the amount of land they were living on would provide plenty of recreation for the large werewolf and full-grown dog, and he and Sirius had spent the entirety of last weekend ensuring that there were no Muggles in a several-mile radius, but still, he felt apprehensive. Logically, he knew the situation was no more dangerous than what they were used to at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade (where, to be honest, there were many more chances to bite a witch or wizard around every corner), but he felt nervous not knowing the land, and not knowing how the werewolf would react to it. It would also be the first time in three years that the other two of their group would not be present—Peter hadn't even responded to Sirius' owl a few days ago, and James had regretfully informed them that he had an away game with the local Quidditch team he played for that he just couldn't miss. Tonight, it would be only Remus and Sirius, and while Sirius was confident that he could keep a werewolf in check, Remus wasn't so sure. It seemed that the older he got, the more ferocious the werewolf became, and it had become necessary for him to have some sort of other creatures present over the past few years.

"Maybe," he tried again—this was the third time in the past two days—"Maybe I should just go into that back shed; stay there the whole night."

"No," Sirius insisted, shaking his head, "I'm not letting you do that to yourself, Moony. Looked up in that little room all night? You know the wolf would go crazy to get out, and then what? You'll hurt yourself too much if you force yourself into that tiny space."

Remus knew he was right, but still, he felt that the idea of suffering harsh injuries the next day was somehow better than seeing what he might do to Sirius without a large stag to counter his attacks. "But you, you can't go to the Ministry all beat-up, what if I—?"

"It's _fine,"_ Sirius insisted, brushing past him to pull the supplies for two sandwiches out of the fridge, "we've got dittany. We've got those new books on healing charms. I promise, we'll both look fine to go into work tomorrow, even if we are exhausted."

Remus nodded, finally accepting his fate, sitting down at the kitchen table as Sirius placed an over-large sandwich before him. "I know you're not hungry," he said, before Remus could open his mouth, "but you've got to eat something. You look thin."

Remus had managed to gain a few pounds over their last year at Hogwarts, but the combination of N.E.W.T. stress and then, later, the lack of cooking skills from himself and Sirius had caused him to lose it all again. Prior to the full moon, he alternated between periods of ravenous hunger and virtually no appetite, but always after his transformations he didn't eat much of anything. Reluctantly, he picked up his dinner and took a few bites as Sirius watched, nodded encouragingly but not eating much of anything himself. He was watching the clock, knowing when it would begin to grow dark, and mentally trying to remember what they needed for the night. As if wanting to break the tension, Sirius told Remus, in detail, about his day—himself and the other interns had been separated into small groups, and as part of their preparations, were now made to learn and perform complex spells. Sirius' group was currently practicing defensive magic.

"—I'm the only one in the group that can really do a full Patronus, see; Kevin is still terrible at it; but Andrea's got a really powerful stunning spell—"

"Who are they?" asked Remus, puzzled.

"Oh—didn't I tell you? They're the other people in my group. They were both in Ravenclaw; Andrea went abroad for a year or two but Kevin just finished with us. He's a big, blonde bloke, loads of money…" Remus thought he vaguely remembered who Sirius was talking about, but he continued nevertheless: "but then after we did that it was just papers, papers, papers. I swear, I don't know how those Aurors think that writing a essay is going to protect me from an Unforgiveable Curse," he shook his head. "But… what can you do."

Remus nodded again. He was quite interested in what Sirius had to say, but he could hardly remain concentrated. His brain kept racing forward to the night ahead of them, and, already, he was beginning to feel ill. Sirius, seeing the look on his face, beckoned him to say seated ("_eat,_" he growled) and went upstairs to fetch the things they'd need. They were going out to the middle of the property, and locking the house into daylight, so that Remus, as a werewolf, wouldn't be tempted to destroy it. As Sirius handed Remus the rest of what they were taking—several blankets, mostly—they left the house together, closing the door behind them and burying the key in a nearby flowerpot.

"Here we go," said Sirius breathlessly as the sun continued to set, making his way with Remus further back onto their property. As it grew darker, Sirius nudged his friend to prompt him to reluctantly begin removing the clothing that would soon grow too small.

"I'll be here when you transform," Sirius reminded him as Remus, red-faced, handed him his garments, now shivering in the early night. "And don't tell me not too, Moony, it's nothing I haven't seen."

Though he was upset by it, Remus knew this was true. Until September of last year he had avoided his friends physically seeing his transformation, but ever since the first night Sirius had witnessed it—the same night, in fact, that they'd confessed their feelings for one another—he had been with him every time, holding his hand as a human up until the last minute, or laying, whimpering, as a large dog as his feet.

"Just make sure you're changed this time before it happens," muttered Remus, "without James around, I wouldn't want—"

"I know, I know," said Sirius, and, glancing toward the sky, he transformed swiftly and suddenly into a great, black dog. Remus continued to shiver, knowing that, within minutes, his incredibly painful monthly change would begin. He felt extremely vulnerable standing in the vast field, unclothed and nervous, with Sirius, as a dog, prowling about his feet.

And then, suddenly—a cloud moved in the sky—it happened. Remus felt his body begin to violently quiver, the horrible, overwhelming sense of dread and panic that always filled up crashing over him like a tidal wave. He wanted it to stop, to slow time, and yet he knew there was nothing he could do; no way to halt the pain that was now beginning to coarse through his every muscle. Unable to stand, he crouched on the grass, still conscious enough to wave Sirius away with his hand, eyes, screwed up as he suppressed the shriek building inside of him. It was unbelievable, to feel bones break and re-form within his very body, finally growing too large for his skin and bursting through his joints, softened only by the thick, matted hair that was rapidly spreading across every inch of his very exposed skin. His teeth and nails lengthened, and sharpened, and Remus dug them into the flesh of his own knees, drawing blood. The transformation, he knew, took only a number of seconds, but the pain stretched on for what felt like hours—every vessel, every vein on fire, hearing a scream that he knew was his, but he could not control, his brain slipping in and out of coherent thought—

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over, and Remus was no longer himself. He couldn't think, he couldn't speak; all he could do was run. All he wanted to do was attack.

The enormous, shaggy dog pounced on him before he could act, flipping the werewolf to its back and then taking off into the night, rippling through the overlong grass. Howling, the wolf took off after him, but the dog was equal in size and in strength. Every time he snapped for its tail or made to catch up with it, it changed course, or growled back with such intensity that the overlarge werewolf cowered. Before long, the pure, animalistic rage in the animal had begun to cease, and it chased the canine through the thick woods of the area with its mind blank, its feet, pounding. Two or three times he caught up him, bounding on top of him like an animal on its prey, but the dog sprang back again, pushing the werewolf off and beginning their game of tag once more. The playfulness of it all seemed to calm the wolf slightly—it paused to take it the new scenery, smells, and sounds, but it did seem to recognize the other creature beside him, though the mournful howls he frequently issued let Sirius knew that this creature possessing his best friend was missing the other two that normally ran about with them.

By the time the sun had risen, both large dogs were exhausted, but Sirius was content to watch, from a considerably distance, as the sky changed to pinky-rose, and the werewolf, who had collapsed by a nearby tree, change slowly back into the sleeping form of Remus.

Though exhausted, Sirius summoned all his remaining energy to transform back into a human, knowing that, if he didn't, Remus and himself would sleep outside all night, even when their home was only a few hundred yards away. Pulling a blanket over him, Sirius managed to lift Remus, who barely stirred, onto his back. He left the other clothes and supplies outside, retrieving only the hidden key, but he found himself too weak to continue upstairs, so he carefully placed Remus on the downstairs couch, curling up on the floor beside him.

Remus, though battered, looked peaceful in sleep, wrapped in a blanket like a newborn child. Sirius was relieved to see that he didn't look too bruised—he felt his own face, as well, noticing only a little blood from a cut on his bottom lip—and he sighed, thankful, at least for this month, the hardest part was over. His legs ached from the running they'd done, and he knew, come the real morning, it would be difficult to rise, especially as he now lay on the stiff floor. Now, he gazed up at his boyfriend's still form. Remus' face was alight somewhat from the outside sunshine, and Sirius, grateful, took the hand that draped down from the sofa; grinning, despite his fatigue, at the small smile that crossed Remus' face, even in sleep. With a final look at his friend, as if to reassure himself that everything _was_ all right, Sirius finally shut his eyes, closing himself off from the world in the peaceful, un-knowing, oblivion of sleep.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Thoughtsss? :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

DID YOU ALL SEE THAT BANGING LUNAR ECLIPSE (like half an hour ago)? I was thinking of Remus the whole time! Am I that nerdy? Yes!

Also, is it weird to say that **I personally love** each and every person that leaves me a review? Because I do. I really do!

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**8**

Morning seemed to come quicker than Sirius had ever experienced it before; and he felt like, only a few moments later, he was opening his eyes to the bright, yellow sunlight.

On the couch a few feet beside him, Remus still slept, his mouth slightly open as he remained cocooned in the worn blanket. The thin, pale arm that Sirius had held in sleep still dropped down toward the floor, and now, in the morning sun, Sirius could see more small bruises from the various tumbles Remus had taken, as a werewolf, the night before. His fingernails, in particular, were in bad shape—they were red from dried blood, probably a result of the pounding across hard earth and against trees with long claws. Remus' straight, fawn-colored hair was sticking up at odd angles, and he certainly looked a bit rough, but Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. They had done it: they'd made it through a full moon, alone.

Sirius didn't feel quite as content as he glanced toward the clock, however—jolting upright, he realized just how late it actually was. Hurriedly, he pulled himself off the floor and shook Remus awake.

"Moony," he muttered hurriedly, "Remus, wake up. You've got to get dressed."

Groggily, Remus opened one eye with difficulty. Wordlessly, he sat up on the sofa, clutching the blankets around him as he looked around. "What time is it?" he croaked, turning back to Sirius.

"Late," he responded, attempting to pull Remus to his feet, and they made their way upstairs. As Remus stood in the middle of the room, still attempting to pull himself together, Sirius ran about, turning the water in the bathroom on to full blast, a toothbrush sticking out his mouth.

"Go, get ready," he managed to say through his mouthful of paste, and Remus obeyed, dropping the sheet from around himself and climbing gingerly into the hot water. Sirius was going from their bedroom back to the bath, pulling on a shirt, jamming an already-knotted tie from the doorknob over his head.

"Aren't you getting in?" asked Remus, his head poking out from the curtains.

"No time," Sirius mumbled, pulling his hair into a hurried ponytail, "I'm already late." He checked his reflection once more in the mirror. He'd managed to wipe most of the dirt from his hands and face, and he quickly rolled down his sleeves to conceal the few scratches that lined his forearms. "Dittany's in the kitchen, Remus. I'll see you later, okay?" he called, and with only the slightest glance backward he was gone. Remus heard him bounding down the steps of their house, grabbing his shoes from beside the door and then, the silence of the floor below him told him that Sirius had Apparated off.

Sighing, Remus laid his head against the cold tile of the wall. He knew he had no right to be upset at the way Sirius had acted—he was still, after all their years together, grateful that Sirius wanted to know him at all, let alone participate in his transformations—but he couldn't lie to himself; he had enjoyed, at school, their mornings alone together, after the night of a full moon. Sirius, apart from their other friends, had always stayed with him until the first class of the day, seeming not to require sleep as he woke early, conjured up breakfast and sat, smiling on the floor, until Remus felt well enough to sit up. It wasn't that he expected this behavior from his friend—no, not at all, thought Remus as he massaged his tired eyes—it was just that he had grown fond of that part of their relationship, and this… well, this morning hadn't been anything like that. Remus felt a particularly nasty stab of guilt as he realized that he hadn't even thanked Sirius for last night, and he knew how difficult and exhausting it must have been to keep a werewolf at bay all by himself.

Why did it seem to Remus like all this Sirius-related discomfort came out at the same time; always while he stood, dripping wet, attempting to wash off his feeling of regret? Remus remained motionless in the stream, his head pounding, feelings of alternating guilt and uneasiness washing over him like the hot drops. What was _really_ bothering him, he thought unhappily, wasn't that Sirius had left the way he did—Remus did know, after all, that Sirius _had _to work. What bothered him was the same strange, prickly feeling of discomfort; the same change he had seen in Sirius' steel-gray eyes: Sirius was changing, and Remus, with nowhere to go, was not.

Remus was overjoyed that Sirius had found a decent job in the area he was so well-suited for, and everyday, though he came home looking tired, he seemed pleased. But what had started as little things were somehow, seeming to add up; first, Sirius had stopped complaining about the Ministry's dress code (he'd even, to Remus' shock, gone out Saturday to buy several new shirts), and his little references to other interns, like the one last night, set Remus somewhat on edge. He didn't like the fact that Sirius had this life, these friends without him—in nearly seven years that hadn't done much of anything apart, and always, they'd known the same people, taken the same tests and exams. It was true that Remus had become rather friendly with some of the bookshop's regular customers—that, he was grateful for, as he didn't know who else he would've talked too—but they didn't seem to be as much as a part of his life as Sirius', who would leave early in the morning and come home late, usually only just before dinner.

And now… he had done so much for Remus the night before, but if Remus were completely honest with himself, despite his sinking guilt—he missed their sleepy mornings on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. He missed being with James, and Peter, but mostly he missed the grinning Sirius, who didn't care what anyone thought of him…

Remus shook his head, spraying water, as if to clear his thoughts. What was he saying? Wasn't it just the day before that Sirius had pulled him into this very shower to nibble on his ear and have hot, passionate morning sex? Hadn't they, just last week, laughed so hard on the floor of the living room that they had been reduced to tears? He was acting stupid. Sirius wasn't a different person at all. He was the same, carefree, long-haired prankster he'd always been, even if he was actually trying to make something of himself.

And now, realizing how late in the morning it was becoming, Remus shut off the water, grabbing a towel, vowing to make up for his rash thoughts and lack of thanks to Sirius.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

"Hard night?"

"Hmm?" Sirius looked over at Kevin, the "big, blonde bloke" he had mentioned to Remus just the night before. Sitting next to the man in the small office, Sirius was, for once, glad that today he was meant to write an essay. It was far easier to sit behind a desk, staring at a blank sheet of parchment that sat in front of him, than stand in front a towering Auror, trying to remember all the ingredients in Polyjuice Potion. However, far from getting any actual work done, Sirius was having a hard enough time just staying awake, something that Kevin had not failed to notice. Now, Sirius shot upward again, attempting, once more, to focus on the few lines he had scrawled. Looking at his watch, he sighed. It was hopeless. He'd never get this done before it was time to leave. "Yeah," he answered, attempting to hide his fatigue; turning toward the other boy, "yeah, it was pretty crazy."

Kevin beamed, and Sirius smiled benignly back. Sometimes all it took to relate to someone—especially someone as simple as Kevin, Sirius thought, rather patronizingly—was one, innocent comment, and that had certainly been the case between the two of them. A month after they had first met in the Ministry elevator, Sirius was surprised to find himself on good terms with the popular intern, and, as a result, most of the others in the group—but he was even more shocked at himself, and at what he had done. He knew neither Remus, nor himself, thought it was plausible to be honest about both his sexuality _or_ their relationship… But to completely lie about it, to create another life all together… even James, Sirius' masterful partner in schemes, would have been ashamed. Sirius' one white lie about having a girlfriend had evolved into a string of untruths, until, before he knew it, Sirius barely recognized his own life—instead, of reality, he was a recently graduated Hogwarts student, living with his long-time girlfriend, who, as Sirius had found himself describing, was quite obviously _not_ a dangerous werewolf, and she _certainly_ wasn't another young man. He had stuck out too much from the others, and it had been so easy to meld into what they wanted his image to become… A few omitted details or restraint would have been fine, but Sirius was frankly disgusted with the false situation he had presented to his peers.

"You look dead, mate," the blonde wizard continued, leaning in closer to him. All around the office, the dozen or so other witches and wizards were crouched over their bits of parchment, quills scratching, clearly trying to finish their work before the day ended and the weekend began. Kevin, who seemed eager to engage Sirius in conversation, appeared to have already finished. "What the hell were you up too?"

"Oh—you know—" Sirius cast wildly around for something to fill this blank, but he was too tired to even think of an adequate response. He knew his arms, which were now exposed by the sleeves he had pushed carelessly up, bore a number of minor injuries, and trying though he was to hide it, he knew his exhaustion was equally as obvious.

"Your girl been beating you up?" Kevin grinned at him, and Sirius choked out a laugh, averting his eyes. If only it were that easy…

With another look down at watch, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. He could leave. For a whole, glorious two days he was off, but for right now, all he wanted to do was get home and sleep. As the young men and women all around them began to gather their things together, Sirius followed suit, shoving his unfinished paper—he'd have to get that to that later on in the weekend—into his bag, which he threw over his shoulder.

As they made their way downstairs to the main floor, where wizards and witches were Apparating in and out of the Ministry, Kevin spoke again. "We should all hang out sometime; the four of us. Nicole says she'd love to meet you… Maybe after you finish that essay." He was smiling again, and Sirius managed to return the expression.

"Yeah, we should," he said, without thinking, waving his friend goodbye and wondering what on earth he had got himself into.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Love that Remus can't even see when someone is or is not being a jerk... -.- If you get my drift! Oh, Sirius, you lying dummy.

My nineteenth birthday is **Thursday! I can has reviews for it? :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Sorry for such a long gap! It was just crazy with my birthday and now Christmas. Thank you guys so much for all the birthday wishes as well!

Here's a steamy chapter to warm up the Christmas. ; ) hahah

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**9**

Remus was waiting at the kitchen table when the faint _pop _in the hallway told him that Sirius had come home. He heard him drop his bag and shoes heavily to the ground, and as he entered the kitchen, he stood up from his chair to greet his boyfriend.

The sight of Remus, looking calm and, for the most part, uninjured, was like a shot of energy to an otherwise exhausted Sirius. He felt, like he had earlier that morning, extremely grateful; grateful that they had made it through a tiring night, and that the Remus standing in front of him was smiling, still whole, still happy, despite Sirius' rude departure that day, and still blissfully unaware the lies he had told only moments before. Despite his guilt, Sirius wordlessly opened his arms, and Remus folded himself perfectly in, pressing his cheek into Sirius' neck and listening to his steady, slow heartbeat.

Inside his mind, Sirius was struggling. He couldn't quite put a finger on why he felt so guilty about lying at work; after all, as he had reassured himself before, he was certain Remus was aware that his job put certain limitations on them. What bothered Sirius was that he _couldn't _be honest, he couldn't be himself… despite the fact that he had unnecessarily made up a double life, the fact remained that it would have been impossible to tell the truth. Sirius' Ministry job, and what it required of him, was changing him somewhat, and Sirius felt a painful tug as he remembered how earlier that day he had been _forced_ to leave. He knew Remus would understand—he did, after all, have to make a living—but it made him sad to think about the mornings they used to have; just the two of them together. After a few moments, Sirius, his hands, flat against Remus' back, spoke: "Moony… about this morning…"

Remus cut him off, drawing back slightly from their embrace to look up at his friend. "You were amazing," he told him, as they broke apart, smiling again. The fingers of his right hand were twisting a few locks of Sirius' dark hair over and over again, his other hand curled into Sirius' chest. "Amazing," he repeated, "I can't imagine how you put up with me last night."

"It was nothing," Sirius muttered, still feeling guilty. "You know that…"

"But you were alone," Remus reminded him, "really, Padfoot, I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have too—" Sirius began, but Remus cut him off again, this time with a kiss so intense that Sirius felt himself back up a tiny bit. Remus, though never reluctant to engage in any kind of activity, was not usually one to initiate it, or—as Remus was now opening the buttons on the other's shirt, his lips trailing down his neck—be as aggressive about it as he was now. If Sirius had been tired before, he now found himself more awake than ever, his hands finding the back of Remus' head as the boy now struggled with his belt buckle. It was like Remus had just raised a very large eraser to Sirius' conscious. Thought he knew he didn't deserve it, if this was how Remus wanted to "thank him", he could hardly complain, and he didn't seem to have the willpower to stop him, when Remus, as always, was what Sirius wanted so badly.

Remus was now attempting to pull Sirius' pants off his hips, their lips, crushed together as if they were one strangely conjoined body instead of two. They were falling into something comfortable and familiar, and yet new; fresh, and exciting. Sirius let out a low moan as Remus, his cool hands tight onto Sirius' hot flesh, began to caress, up and down… Now, Sirius allowed him to succumb further to feelings of bliss, unable to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of Remus' grip, let alone the shame he had felt only moments ago.

"Not here," Sirius groaned, his mouth still pressed into Remus', his voice sounding husky. "Upstairs…"

Remus didn't need telling twice. He pulled Sirius, by the hand, up the narrow staircase that led to their bedroom. He seemed to be unwilling to break their embrace, walking backward up the stairs as Sirius took one of his lips in both of his own, feeling Remus' tongue now inside his own mouth. Remus' eagerness, and his persistent, only drove Sirius further into his thoughtless oblivion. This was the man that he loved, and who loved him back, despite all his flaws. As they fell backward onto the mattress, Remus, underneath the older boy, fiddled with the remaining buttons of Sirius' shirt until he could pull it off his shoulders—Sirius himself pulled the tie he wore over his neck, throwing it aside—the t-shirt he wore underneath following suit. In their normal positions as they now were, Remus hurriedly continued his quest to remove Sirius' slacks; a second later, he grasped his own t-shirt and jeans, tossing them onto the floor. When the last of their clothing was removed and nothing separated them any longer, Remus used an arm to prop himself up, pulling his right leg up and over Sirius so that he was crouched on top of him, his mouth locked tightly on a spot on Sirius' tan chest.

Eyes shut, head back, Sirius continued to moan as Remus' mouth moved further down his body. It seemed as though Remus was omitting Sirius' mistakes, one by one, with each kiss, lick, and nibble he laid upon Sirius' body, and Sirius was all too eager to accept it. Quickly, though, he seemed to reach what it seemed he was _really _after. As Sirius felt Remus' lips upon him, he sighed, grasping in both hands the sheets, which were loose, and falling, on either side of him. It seemed that Remus was slowly savoring a very unique treat—the way his mouth and his head moved skillfully up and down; his lips, hot, paused every few seconds to plant a small kiss on the most sensitive parts of Sirius' body. It was clear, to Sirius, that there could be no better feeling, no higher ecstasy… except, of course, when Sirius felt Remus' hands attempting to pull him up, moving their chests even closer together, pulling Sirius' hands out of their clenched fists. In a haze, Sirius reached down to quickly stroke, pulling his own, slippery hand back upward to not-so-hastily find Remus, whose moans quickly matched his own as his whole body begin to tense and writhe under the new intrusion. In what seemed like only a few seconds later, Sirius slipped inside the boy.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Sirius was glad that they lived alone, together, without the addition of someone else, because now he felt as though both himself and Remus were making enough noise to alert anyone who might have been in the building. It was unbelievable, how, after being with Remus for quite a while now, every time they were together could be so different, and still feel _so _amazing… Sirius eyes were half-closed as he heard his own, ragged breath, grasping Remus' legs to pull him even closer in, making out, just barely, the fact that Remus was now gripping the sheets in the same way he had done… All shame, all worry, all negative thoughts were vanished by pure, animal need, and Remus seemed incredibly willing to do the same thing. Sirius had no concept of time, or location, only feelings, delicious, hot, friction feelings…

Perhaps it was because Sirius had never been with anyone he loved as much as Remus, or perhaps it was because Remus was particularly wonderful, but for whatever reason, when Sirius felt himself subside to the feelings now bursting through him, it was, time and time again, a uniquely erotic experience. For a second it was though he ceased to really exist at all—unable to see anything but black, or hear anything other than a dull, buzzing; only able to feel the seemingly endless waves of pleasure that crashed throughout his entire body. He was only dimly aware of Remus' sharp gasps and his own, rapidly sweating chest; he was unable to focus on anything at all until his body was spent, until he found himself slowly pulling away from his lover, feeling Remus' once again press lips against his, wet with perspiration…

They were both panting; Sirius now leaning back onto the bed pillows and Remus falling toward him as well, his flushed face against Sirius' heaving chest. Though they were both sticky, and covered in sweat, Sirius pulled Remus in even tighter, savoring every inch of their bodies pressed together. In the aftermath of their storm, he couldn't bear the thought of being separated, as if drawing apart would somehow break this beautiful, sensual connective thread that stretched between them. His head was swimming, but he could feel their simultaneously pounding hearts gradually begin to slow down. Remus slowly moved his hands up Sirius' arms, digging into Sirius' upper arms lightly with his nails, his hair, which now hung in damp tendrils, lying limply across his eyes. Sirius brushed this out of the way to look down at his closed eyes, gently running a finger down the side of his cheek.

"Remus," Sirius said, finally, after a few moments of silence that had been broken only by the sounds of their continued sighs. The other opened his eyes, looking up at him. In the dim light of the room, Remus' amber eyes glowed greenish; gleaming, and multi-facetted, much like the fossils of their color. He was smiling again, but rather weakly. The exhaustion that had reverberated through Sirius earlier that day was slowly ebbing back, and much stronger now. It was becoming a struggle to remain awake, especially as it seemed he had just spent the last of energy.

"Love you," he reminded Remus thickly, who murmured back the same, pushing himself up the tiniest bit to kiss Sirius once more. They hadn't eaten at all, and both desperately needed a bath, but the moonlight flickering through the curtainless windows was impossible to ignore; the slow, steady sounds of their breath seemed like a lullaby in the empty, silent room, and in only a few minutes, Sirius felt himself finally give in, once again, with Remus still clutched to his chest, to much-needed sleep.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

You all are great greatttt. Hopefully this warmed up things.. (I'm so bad...) as it's snowing here in NC!


	10. Chapter 10

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

So that last one was kind of hot.

This chapter is honestly, mostly just a little **fluff.** But, as Hermione says, there is a lot of important stuff hidden in the waffle...

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**10**

Slowly, with the morning light filtering in through the glass, Remus awoke the next day. In sleep, he had moved slightly apart from his still-naked lover, his face now just brushed the side of Sirius' chest, who lay, still passed out, his legs tangled in the blankets. Although Sirius and himself often joked about how "creepy" it was to do so, he couldn't help but stare, just for a moment, and admire Sirius' sleeping form. Sirius was so unashamed of who he was, and how he looked, and this was obvious to anyone who could have seen him at that moment. One of his long arms stretched toward where Remus had lain, the other lay awkwardly near his head; the blankets and sheets twisted around his lower body doing nothing to conceal any part of him. In addition to his injuries from the full moon, he was now covered in various love bites—Remus flinched as he noticed a particularly obvious hickey directly on his neck. They'd have to charm that one away later, but for now, it served as a brand, a red reminder of what had happened the night before.

Though the now glimmering sunlight greatly matched Remus' cheery, admirable mood, he couldn't help but feel a tad guilty over his motives for last night's aggression. He had spent the day in the shop berating himself for feeling like Sirius had somehow not cared by leaving for his job the morning before, and by the time he had made his way home, his mind was made up. Sirius was the best thing that had happened to him, and Remus was going to show him how much he appreciated all that he was doing, even if Sirius was becoming a bit of a Ministry lemming. Now, casting a final look over at him, Remus edged his way out of bed, walking quickly and quietly to get dressed for his Saturday shift.

"Where are you going?" Sirius murmured sleepily as Remus reentered their room, now fully dressed and cleaned. He looked, if possible, even more adorable than he had in sleep—his dark hair was standing on end and his smoky eyes were heavy-lidded. He pulled the sheets around him to a more comfortable position, gesturing tiredly toward Remus. "Come back in bed… stay here."

"I wish I could," Remus grinned, unable to help himself from laying back down in his boyfriend's arms, which, once again, held him close. "But I've got to go in."

"I'll come by," said Sirius, still yawning, his eyes closed and his cheek resting on Remus' damp hair. "I haven't ridden my bike in awhile."

"Okay," Remus agreed, pulling away from Sirius as he leaned forward for a kiss, letting him meet his cheek instead. "You reek, though," he informed him, rolling out of bed to put on his shoes. "Take a shower first, Padfoot."

"That's the Moony I know and love," muttered Sirius, grinning, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the sunlight.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

A few hours later, Remus found himself sitting behind his desk, sipping his usual cup of tea, so deeply absorbed in a conversation with Matt that he almost didn't notice when the tinkling chimes of the door told him another patron had entered the shop. The door had been opening and closing all day—it was, after all, their busiest day of the week—but it wasn't until Sirius had made his way to the back of the room that Remus realized who had come in. He felt his face break into a smile as Sirius snaked through the many piles and stacks of books, nearing the back corner where the two other boys sat.

Dressed, as he had always been while they were at Hogwarts, in jeans and an old t-shirt, Sirius carried his motorcycle helmet under one arm; clearly just arrived. Giddy as they still were from the night before, Sirius grinned at Remus, then turned to Matt.

"Hello," he said pleasantly, and Remus now looked toward the other boy. He had been wondering, since they met, if Matt was also interested in men, and now, as he saw the gleam in his eyes… He was positive he had guessed correctly.

"Matt," he introduced himself, shaking Sirius' hand. He was looking at him, intrigued, and as Sirius shook back, his hair falling back behind his shoulders, and Remus felt a mix of satisfaction and horror—Sirius clearly hadn't bothered to charm off the very obvious hickies on his neck that marked him as Remus'.

"Sirius," he responded, and a look of comprehension dawned on Matt's face. Matt flashed a look at Remus, smirking.

"You're Remus' friend," he said knowingly, "his roommate, right?"

"Right," Sirius now turned to his boyfriend, who blushed. "So, this is the 'office', Moony?"

Before Remus could respond, Matt interrupted: "_Moony_," he said, remembering the book, and raising his eyebrows.

Remus brushed him off. "This is it," he told Sirius, who was now looking curiously around the bottom floor. "And, this is pretty much what I do," he gestured to his tea, laughing slightly, "not at all what you're used to, I'm sure."

"I like it!" Sirius told him, dropping his gaze from the upwardly spiraling staircase to flash another grin. "Feel like giving me a little tour?"

Matt was still looking extremely smug, but Remus ignored him, standing up from his desk. "Watch this for a second, will you?" he asked, refraining from the strong urge to take Sirius' hand as he guided him up the rickety steps.

They lingered for a few moments in the upstairs levels of the shop—even sneaking, to Remus' horror, a quick kiss in a secluded corner—and Sirius seemed continuously delighted as Remus pointed out each section to him, including, of course, the well-hidden books of magic, as well as the ordinary, Muggle ones. Sirius, who wasn't much of a recreational reader, even hovered for a minute reading _A History of Transportation_ on the top floor, but Remus' couldn't ignore the customers coming in and out for very long, and after a few moments, they made their way back down to the ground level. Matt, who, of course, had been around longer than Remus had, was just ringing up an older man as they crisscrossed back to him. Waving the man goodbye, Remus resumed his seat behind the desk. "I'd better get back to work," he said apologetically to Sirius, who nodded, "I'll see you later tonight?"

"Yep," said Sirius, looking for a moment like he was going to lean toward him, but then thought better of it, "I'll grab some groceries before I head back."

"We're out of milk again," Remus reminded him, and he laughed, grabbing his helmet from the counter. He shook Matt's hand again, and then, casting a final look at the two of them, exited the store. Remus heard the roar of his bike's engine grow, and then fade as he drove off, down the road.

Suddenly, he became very aware that his friend was looking his way, and he turned again toward the smirking Matt. "What?" he asked, in a would-be innocent way.

"Your roommate, huh?" Matt said sarcastically, and in spite of myself, Remus felt himself blush.

"Yes," he said stubbornly, "Yeah, we've been friends for years."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's _all _you are," Matt laughed, and Remus blushed even harder. "Remus, the man had a hickey the size of London. I never thought you the type to do such a thing…" he laughed, harder, as Remus sputtered, trying to protest, "don't worry, I mean, it's not exactly a surprise." Remus turned away from his, attempting to busy himself with the things around him, still obviously red around the ears. "Well, now I understand why you talk about him_ so_ much, the man is gorgeous."

Remus smirked—at least, that part, he really couldn't debate.

"How long have you two been together?" Persisted Matt, leaning in to question him further.

He sighed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Getting close to a year now," he told the other, whose brown eyes were still gleaming with interest. "We just moved here a little over a month ago, though."

"I thought he worked at the Ministry?" asked Matt, who, now that he had gotten Remus to confess, seemed intent on getting as much information as he could. "You said he was always busy."

"He is," Remus responded, "that's why we try and keep it—our… relationship, I mean—quiet. But he's off this weekend, so…"

"Yeah, I could tell _that _by his neck," retorted Matt, and Remus blushed so deeply again that he refused to talk anymore about the subject at all, Matt teasing him until he was finally able to go home for the afternoon.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Cute chapter telling you it's about to get pretty - well - SERIOUS.

Hahhaha.

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HARMONY'S TWIST!


	11. Chapter 11

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Not much to say. Going back to school soon but I will posting chapters still very frequently!

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**11**

"You did _not_ say that!"

"I did!" laughed James, trying, and failing, to maintain his composure, his glasses resting crookedly on the bridge of his nose. Remus snorted into his glass. "I had to say it… you should have seen the look on his face when I asked him, though—'how much of that broom is actually _up_ your ass—'"

Even Lily couldn't hide her laughter as the four dissolved into peals of giddiness. James was nearly crying now, and Sirius, pausing only to take a sip of his drink, was grinning. Seated at the small kitchen table at Remus and Sirius' house, the four were enjoying a cramped, but rather hysterical meal, and James, who had just gotten back from a game of Quidditch, was reiterating how he had achieved getting kicked off the pitch, just as, in his words, "he was playing the greatest game of his life." Lily shook her head, looking extremely amused.

"'Greatest game of your life'… honestly, James," she rolled her eyes his way, but Sirius winked, "I don't know why I bother with you; you're such a liar."

Remus, who privately agreed, now reached over to pour everyone further helpings of the wine they were drinking. Changing the subject, Lily turned to him. "I can't believe you two made all of this," she gestured to the now near empty plates, "It was delicious."

"I didn't do anything," said Sirius immediately, "it was all him."

"My friend Matt helped," admitted Remus, humbly accepting her compliment. "He's been _quite_ eager to do it after he met Sirius a few weeks ago…"

James and Sirius dissolved into peals of laughter once more. It was now nearing the end of August, only a few days before Remus' eighteenth birthday. The next night, Remus would undergo another transformation—but this time, all three boys were hoping it would be much more like his ones at Hogwarts, with James, transformed into a large stag, roaming the land with them. Although Remus was now sure that he and Sirius could handle a full moon alone, he was looking forward to James' presence. Things were, by no means, _bad_, or even awkward between Remus and his boyfriend, but it was becoming harder and harder to ignore Sirius' changing attitude. More and more often, he talked off his peers and colleagues, and Remus was startled to find that he was alarmed, and a bit jealous of Sirius' new life. He compensated for this by finding himself growing closer to Matt, who, now that he had discovered the secret of their relationship, had no reservations in discussing Sirius' life with Remus—as he had clearly let him friends know. As Remus had said, he had even helped him in cooking dinner that night—he'd written out a step-by-step plan for him as they'd sat together that afternoon. Still, despite all of this, the meal they were having with their friends was comfortable, not forced, perhaps because it reminded them all of the many dinners they'd had, only a few months prior.

"So, Remus," Lily began, finally changing the subject as all four wiped their eyes, "what are you planning to do for your birthday?"

Remus cast a questioning glance over at Sirius, who sat next to him. It was a Thursday night, but the boy was looking more like his old self—in his favorite jeans and flannel shirt, his bare feet curled up on their rickety, wooden chairs. His cheeks were still slightly flushed from laughter. Now, he reached over on the table, placing a hand on top of his. "I think we can figure something out," he said, in a would-be innocent tone, but James pulled a face.

"She meant _besides_ the fucking," he groaned, rolling his eyes, and Sirius, dropping Remus' hand, flicked one of his remaining peas in his direction.

"Probably just hang out," Remus replied to Lily, dodging James' swat across the table. "I doubt I'll feel too great after tomorrow, even with James there," he amended, nodding toward the boy, who smiled at him, then resumed in attempting to grab Sirius into a headlock.

"Come over to our place," Lily suggested, smiling at him kindly. "James and I will cook something this time." She too, was somewhat flushed in the face, but it suited her, and Remus grinned at her. After getting more of a grip on their own lives and cooking, Sirius and Remus hadn't been over to their friend's home nearly as often, but, with the exception of Remus' parents, she was the main recipient of Remus' owls. After the previous year at Hogwarts, Remus felt more comfortable than ever discussing whatever challenges he was facing with Sirius with Lily, who was very understanding, and always had a word of good advice. Of course Remus loved his very loud (and still arguing) male friends, but Lily was almost like a sister to him, and he was more grateful than he could tell her for the part both he and Sirius knew she had played in James' acceptance of their relationship. It was hard to believe he might have ever been uncomfortable with it, however, as James was now holding Sirius around the neck, clearly just as comfortable doing this as he had been _before_ he'd learned that Sirius was having sex with a man. However, at the sound of Lily's voice, he stopped.

"We will?" asked James, releasing his gasp on Sirius, clearly worried, and, at the horrified look on his face, they all dissolved into giggles again.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

"Come _on,_" Sirius muttered, his eyes flicking back to his watch. He adjusted himself in his seat, attempting to, once again, look engaged in the man droning on before him, but his mind was elsewhere; many miles away. He wished, now more than ever, that there were real windows in the Ministry building instead of the stupid, enchanted ones; he knew, by the time, that it was growing closer to dark, but he wanted to see just how much the sun had already set. He didn't have much time before night fell, and he was growing more anxious by the second.

Casting a glance his way, Kevin grinned, but Sirius ignored it, tapping his fingers impatiently. He should've sent an owl to Remus, or James, before he'd entered into his bore-fest, but now—he glared irritably at the speaker, who was several yards away—it was too late. There was no way he could send a message home at this point. His only option was to wait it out, and hopefully, it would be over soon. It seemed that every time the man paused, as if to conclude, he would start up again, sending Sirius into a further spiral of frustration. Didn't these people know that he had to be home _now,_ that the moon was rising faster than they knew…?

Finally,_ finally_, what seemed like the world's longest speech came to a close, and Sirius was the first out the office door, jamming the notes he hadn't taken into his bag. Now, more than ever, it was horrible to live a double life; frustrated with himself for not being honest from the start. He jabbed at the elevator doors, willing them to open faster…

"What's up?" asked Kevin, who had appeared at Sirius' elbow, and he had to suppress an exasperated sigh. As each day passed, Kevin was pressuring him more and more to spend time with him outside of their job. He seemed to actually want to be friends, something that simultaneously pleased and annoyed Sirius. With their workload growing heavier, he felt he barely had enough time for Remus as it was, and the idea of adding on the addition of extra, needy people was more than Sirius could stand.

"Girlfriend's sick," Sirius grunted. He could picture Remus, alone with James, walking out into the middle of their empty field. James didn't know that if Remus didn't eat before the sunset, he'd throw up the next morning; he didn't know about the panic Remus felt, right before he transformed—always, James had looked away for that part. Sirius had been the most observant of Remus' behavior, even before they were a couple—James was always content to take the backseat, and Sirius had become even more aware of the ins and outs of Remus' personality as they continued to live together. James didn't know that the werewolf liked its canine companion best, or that it would be angry at its absence… Sirius choked down another sigh as the elevator began to take them up to the main floor, where he could finally Apparate home from. He _couldn't_ miss another transformation. He swore he wouldn't do this again, no matter what; he had to be there for Remus…

On the ground level, Sirius could now see the dim light that shone from the windows, a brilliant, red-purple sunset. He should've been home over an hour ago, and on a normal day, it would hardly have mattered, but today, of all days, was no time to be late. Bidding a hasty goodbye to his colleague, Sirius turned on the spot and vanished, feeling the familiar, but still uneasy, sensation of disappearing, and then, instantly, reappearing in the very dark entryway of his home.

Dropping his thing to the floor, Sirius ran into the kitchen, which, like the room he had just exited, was dim. In fact, as he looked quickly around, he noticed that the whole house with growing very dark with the setting sun; the only light shining from a lone lamp in the living room. Remus and James must already be outside, and so Sirius quickly ran out the side door, wrenching off his choking tie and button-down in the process and abandoning them on the kitchen counter. He could see James, and Remus, some distance away, their bodies tiny in the vast field of grass.

It was an odd scene to witness. The sky was growing dimmer by the second, and Remus' silhouette was already hunched over, the tall, somewhat awkward form of James a considerably distance away. Sirius broke into a sprint now, calling out toward the two other boys, who both turned, looking in his direction. As he neared closer, he could see that Remus' eyes were already screwed up in anticipation; James, looking uncomfortable—

"Sirius," Remus croaked, reaching a shaking hand toward him as he threw himself down on the ground beside him.

"I'm here—I'm sorry—" Hastily, Sirius helped Remus remove his sweater, and jeans, opting to just let him ruin his other clothing, as James was now bending toward them. With the slight chill of the night wind, and the shifting clouds, Remus began to shiver violently, his knees curled to his chest now. Normally, at this point, he would be casting Sirius away, but perhaps from the anxiety of Sirius' lateness, or from sheer relief, Remus grasped his hand even tighter, pulling him in.

His amber eyes were burning reddish; he looked somewhat crazed, not at all like his normal self. "I thought—you weren't—"

"Me too," panted Sirius. He knew, in his right mind, Remus wouldn't be saying these things—he would be pretending like everything was fine, like it wouldn't have mattered if Sirius was absent or not, but in his moment of pain, he was weak… and he was honest. Feeling as though he was the one about to undergo the very painful shift into a werewolf, Sirius could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the feeling of dread so thick in his chest he could hardly stand it. Without thinking, he grasped the others boy's face, forgetting that James, who had never seen them do so, was there, kissing him hard and hot and desperately. "I'm sorry," he murmured desperately, "we're here now—I'm right here—"

Remus looked dazed. He loosened his grip on Sirius' hand, curling further into himself, and Sirius nodded toward James, who had drawn very close, knowing that now, it was the moment for them to become their animal counterparts. As Sirius changed swiftly into a great black dog; James, an even more enormous stag, and Remus, moaning, began, also, to transform. Casting a final glance over at the two of them, he let out a low, mournful howl, and for what seemed like the thousandth time, the werewolf took over his body, mind, and soul.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**DRAMAAA. **INTRIGUED?

I'm getting depressed about going back to school so leave me lots of commentsssss? yayy


	12. Chapter 12

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

About to get really complicated. Remus is a complex dude (with very low self-esteem).

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**12**

As if someone had hit him, Remus sprang up, very suddenly, sitting bolt upright on the couch. Frantically, he whipped his head around, struggling to comprehend, trying to untangle himself from the blankets that had wrapped their way around his legs. In his sudden confusion, he tried to speak, but his voice came out only as a sharp croak.

"Hey, hey," Sirius hurried over from the doorway, sitting quickly down at his feet, his hands instantly finding their place on Remus' face, stroking his hair back. "You're fine, Moony; it's okay."

Remus relaxed somewhat. It was coming back to him now; his momentary panic ebbing away as soon as it had occurred. He had just awoken on their very battered couch, and it was morning; and the sweet, beautiful morning sunlight was what had stirred him from his deep slumber. As if he were made of gelatin, Remus felt himself collapse into the bend of the couch cushions, closing his eyes again. Everything that had happened last night was a stressful, hazy blur. He could hardly remember what was real, and what was pretend prior to his transformation, and after that… Remus shook his head, trying to think. As usual, his memories while he was a werewolf were few and far between, but clearly, the night before had not been a good one.

Sirius had moved closer to him, still pushing the hair off his face, and Remus realized he had grasped onto his hand; their fingers intertwining. Attempting to get his bearings, Remus opened his eyes once more and spoke to the boy, who was looking extremely anxious, bending over him. "What happened?"

"It…wasn't good," Sirius said, with an obvious attempt to stay calm, and though he forced himself to remain so, Remus was shocked to see that tears were brimming in his eyes. He remembered, now—James had come over and the two had waited as long as they could, both pretending they weren't checking their watches, waiting for Sirius. _Five more minutes… He'll be here in five more minutes; he would have told us if he would be late…_ When they finally couldn't wait any longer they'd set off, silently crossing the land, Remus' head swimming… _Never been alone with James before; what if the werewolf hurt him? Where was Sirius…_ He could only vaguely recall the image of Sirius sprinting toward them; he felt he must have blacked out as he reached for him, flooded with relief, but feeling the wolf inside him grow angry, so, so angry…

"The werewolf," continued Sirius, attempting to keep his voice steady, "it made you so angry… It was all we do to keep you from us, Remus. We had…" he sighed, "We had to fight back."

"What do you mean?" asked Remus, confused, but as it he said it, his body was becoming more and more awake; less numb to the sleep he had woken from. As Sirius sighed again, Remus looked down at his self, noticing, for the first time, how much damage he must have done. Most noticeably, a large, purple-yellow bruise was spreading from his collarbone, and his arm, from shoulder to elbow, was covered in several long, already-healing cuts; his stiff, aching limbs decorated in minor injuries. "What's this from?" he asked, gesturing to the arm.

"Me…" said Sirius, regretfully, reaching out to gently touch the end of one claw mark. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it again.

"And this?" Remus asked, gesturing to his collarbone.

"Broken," Sirius muttered, "We—James and I, that is—fixed it up, though, right after dawn. I… I didn't mean to do it. The wolf was going crazy, and James… He didn't know what to do."

They both sat quietly for the next few moments. A very odd mix of emotions was forming in Remus' chest, a fast, whirling tornado of confusion. He was deserving of every wound, grateful they were there; almost—he resisted gripping his scratched arm—wishing they were cut deeper, so he could feel the physical pain over what was going on emotionally. He felt as if he might vomit, watching Sirius, whose dark, under eye circles showed clearly that had not slept; still bent over him, looking harried. However, despite the guilt that was swelling so deeply it neared suffocating, he felt another surprising emotion, one he had never felt when it came to Sirius…

He was, despite knowing how selfish he was being, _angry _with Sirius… but not for being late the night before. He knew it wasn't right to ask Sirius to be there for him; it was unfair to ask Sirius to support him when he was what most wizards considered to be despicable. However, as he looked down at his neck, which shone purple against his white skin, the feelings of rage coursing through him were hard to deny. His bones would mend, but the fact that he had put James, and Sirius at risk would not change. To put it simply, he was angry that Sirius had cared.

The wolf had been livid, seeking to attack the things that had once given him comfort, and Remus knew Sirius would have had no choice but to protect his best friend, who had never been able to control the werewolf as well as Sirius could. Remus' anger, and the realization of it, was coupled only with a feeling of deep, impenetrable sadness. He had known all along he didn't deserve Sirius' love, or even his affection, but it was becoming more and more obvious with each day that Sirius had a new life. Against his better judgment, Remus had become used to the love, the attention, and now, he was bitterly reminded of what he had told Sirius just a week after they'd agreed to be together—he wasn't being fair to him. Remus had been foolish to let himself feel as though he deserved, stupid to encourage Sirius' feelings, and now, all of his friends were hurting as a result. As he opened his mouth to speak, to _try_ and apologize, to say _something,_ Sirius spoke again.

"My fault," he muttered desperately, and the tears he had been trying to suppress fell forward, dropping onto their linked hands. "Oh—Remus—I'm so _sorry._ This is all my fault. I made you so angry last night; now… you're hurt…"

"No," said Remus, swallowing his anger, and, with a feeling of further guilt, the sense of knowing better—knowing that he was being selfish to keep hanging on "It's not, Sirius; it's mine. I am a werewolf. Nothing is going to change that."

Sirius sighed heavily again, and the shame coursing through Remus was almost unbearable now. "I wanted to show you something," he said shakily, drying his eyes on his sleeve. "I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, and this isn't exactly a present to you, but I got it a few days ago…" Sirius had begun to undo the top few buttons of his shirt, and Remus stared at him, wondering what on earth he was talking about. As Sirius pulled the garment open, though, he felt his mouth drop. Sirius had quite a love of Muggle things, and customs, but Remus didn't think he would have gone this far. Across the top of Sirius' chest, just under his collarbone, was a long, dark tattoo. With a shock, Remus realized that the circles that crossed from shoulder to shoulder represented a pattern he was very familiar with—the cycles of the waxing and waning moon, with the open, full moon directly in the center.

Sirius had gone, after work one day, to get it done. He had, with Lily, drawn out the idea many, many months ago, but the day at the Ministry, the million other lies he'd told about his love life, and Remus' upcoming birthday had finally been the push he needed. He tried to pretend that their relationship, and his ultimate commitment to the boy had been the real reason for finally going through with it, but in reality, the guilt he felt in lying, pretending, and not being around nearly as much had been a huge factor. Sirius knew, despite the fact that Remus would never say it, that he hadn't been giving Remus nearly what he deserved… However, if he could only read Remus' thoughts at that moment, Sirius would have been shocked, as Remus was thinking quite the opposite. The remorse had built up so heavily in Remus' chest that he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He collapsed against Sirius' bare shoulder. Sirius, though surprised, held him there, wordlessly allowing the boy's tears to soak into his skin.

As they sat in the silence together, their sore, tired chests pressed against the others, both heartbeats found a similar pattern. Each engrossed in their own thoughts, they couldn't possibly know, couldn't possibly realize that, though their minds told both a different story, each heart was also weighed down with the same, sinking, undeniable feeling… of regret.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

I'm back at school so... ugh... just leave me lots of reviews so I have something to look forward to in the morning, pleeease? : (


	13. Chapter 13

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Sorry it's been a little longer than usual! I hope you all can forgive meee.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**13**

"You made all this?" Remus asked, sitting up a little further in bed, as Sirius proudly set down the plate in front of him. True, the chocolate chip pancakes placed before him looked a little burnt, but as Sirius, beaming, handed him a steaming cup of coffee, it was obvious that he was trying. Taking a sip, Remus suppressed his urge to gag at Sirius' idea of the drink (he seemed to have added equal parts of coffee and sugar), opting, instead, to smile at him. "Thank you," he said politely.

"Happy birthday," said Sirius, leaning forward to carefully kiss him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," said Remus, as Sirius now climbed back into their bed. Even though he had gotten up to "cook"—Remus now picked at the pancakes delicately, seeking out the chocolate—he hadn't bothered to get dressed, and, in only a pair of pajama pants, his new tattoo was a sharp bit of contrast on his bare chest. Just the night before, as they'd lain, exhausted, in bed, Remus had run his fingers over it, unable to suppress the urge to trace each circle. After his bit of a breakdown, he'd desired to do nothing else except lay about in bed, and it was looking like today, until they left for James and Lily's, would turn out to be very similar.

Despite his heavy thoughts the day before, in the light of a new day—his _birthday_, he reminded himself—he found it hard not to let himself give in to feelings of affection for Sirius, despite knowing, now, more than ever, that they were wrong. Being with Sirius was like a drug; it was an addiction. A year ago, Remus never would have ignored the logical voices in his head that told him of his selfish behavior, but Sirius' love had created a barrier between his mind and emotions just as quickly as it had knocked down the ones on his actions, and words. He was only mildly surprised now when he reached for Sirius across their bed, or called "I love you" toward him as he walked away; motions that would have made him red in the face only a season before. After all, he had willingly given Sirius everything—his trust, virginity, and, though unfairly, all of his baggage, and burdens. However, Remus, determinedly ignored these thoughts that were now beginning to fill his brain; convinced that on this day, of all days, he would at least pretend to be happy.

Setting down his plate on the floor beside their bed, Remus turned to Sirius, who had nestled himself back down in their blankets. Both were still sore from the full moon—Remus had been careful to keep his arm and neck rather still, as the mended collarbone seemed to have been done rather weakly. This wasn't surprising, as neither James nor Sirius had too much experience in mending bones, but the long scratches down Remus' arm were clean now, the deep scars already beginning to form. Sirius winced as Remus gently put a finger to his chest to test the bruise there, and, seeing his face, Remus quickly lowered his arm again. Opening his arms toward him, Sirius pulled the other boy against himself, careful to be gentle.

"Guess what today is?" he asked quietly, running a thumb along Remus' jaw line.

"I know it's my birthday, Sirius," laughed Remus, "I just ate your pancakes, didn't I?"

Sirius smiled. He, too, found it all too easy to ignore his true feelings on this particular morning, when the soft sunlight was floating in through their open window, and Remus, with his bed-mused hair, was looking so adorable, still blissfully unaware of Sirius' shame. He was, however, grateful that Remus didn't say much about his injuries, as he still felt horrible looking toward his arm, knowing the deep scars the claw marks would leave. Rather selfishly, he ignored this, instead, focusing on Remus' face, and the old, self-induced scar that crossed his cheek. He now ran a finger across it, and both boys remembered—at this time, last year, he had just received the mark. Then, it had been fresh, red, and raw, and over time, it had changed—now the scar was flesh colored, barely visible to anyone except Sirius, who had traced it too many times to forget. It was a representation of how much things had changed over the year, as were the next words Sirius spoke.

"Today is the day that we first kissed," he reminded Remus, who felt himself smile, embarrassed. It was true—on his seventeenth birthday, Remus had, drunk, made what he had then thought to be his fatal error. This year, however, Sirius brought his lips against Remus', kissing him in a way that echoed last year only by its same passion; its same loving, needing touch… _It was like being in a dream—he seemed to have no control, his actions already turning into memory, and yet they were slipping away so fast from him, like they weren't real at all…_

"I can't believe it's been that long," muttered Remus as they broke apart, Sirius' hands now gently rubbing his sides. "I can't believe everything's so _different…" _He sighed deeply. Sirius, who was gently kissing the less bruised side of his neck, looked up at him. "Did you ever think we'd be here?"

Sirius seemed to ponder this question for a moment, weighing it in his mind. "I hoped," he admitted, smiling fondly again at him. "I _wanted_ it to happen… you know that. Did I really think it ever would? I wasn't sure."

"Mm," said Remus quietly, now lost in thought again. He too, had hoped for Sirius to return his affection, longed for it, in fact, but 366 days ago, he had considered it to be only a fantasy. It was a bit unreal, laying in bed with the boy he thought would never look twice at him, realizing, with a start, that they were now both permanently branded with reminders of the other one. Sirius, who seemed to be caught up in the nostalgia, kissed him again, and this time, Remus let him fall into it, feeling like he was pushing his thoughts away for the millionth time. Their bed was so comfortable, Sirius' mouth so delicious, and the hands that roamed across his chest were soft, and careful. Remus let him delicately remove his thin t-shirt, his fingers finding their familiar path in Sirius' long hair as the boy kissed across his torso. They would see their friends later that night, and he would apologize to James for his actions, but for now, his senses were filled only with Sirius—the taste of him on his tongue, the smell of his soap and cigarettes filling his nose, the feel of his fingers slipping down his stomach. It was hard to feel anything other than pleasure—even something as powerful as guilt—when the person you knew you shouldn't love was pulling your pajama pants off your hips; pressing their lips against yours as your bodies mingled together.

As for Sirius—if anyone could see him at that particular moment, it would have been impossible for them to believe he was a wealthy, committed heterosexual… as he often reiterated at his place of employment. With the gentle, yet passionate kisses he was laying onto the thin boy's body, no one would ever believe that, just two nights before, he had been so close to breaking a promise to his boyfriend that he'd caused the werewolf within Remus to become so angry that Sirius had been forced to break its bones. It was almost ironic that Remus was the one pushing aside his feelings of selfishness, because, if Sirius had been able to read his mind, he would have laughed out loud. Despite the love he clearly felt—and was now displaying—toward Remus, he, more than any outsider, knew _just_ how selfish _he _was being. He had pushed Remus into the relationship, sworn commitment to him though Remus had wished against it, and, even as a friend, he had made the promise to be there for him. He had thought it before, but now it was even more obvious: the lies he had told to Kevin, and the other Aurors were unnecessary. He hadn't needed to go that far, to completely lie, and yet he had; he had in order to fit in, to work his way up in the Ministry. He tried to write it off as needed, as if Remus would understand why he'd fibbed, but at this point, there were no excuses. Kevin knew _details_ of Sirius' "girlfriend"—she was born in Wales, and she hated mushrooms; they'd met during the summer, and she was half-blood. He would have been disgusted—or, even worse, laughed—at the idea of Remus, who was working at a minimum wage job, poor, sickly, and male, and Sirius had known this. Yes, he had had to protect his identity, he _couldn't_ have been honest with people at the Ministry, but it had somehow become something bigger than that. Even while Sirius slipped out of his own, plaid pajamas, feeling Remus' hands beginning to seek out his most sensitive spots, Sirius knew the real reason he hadn't told was that he was ashamed. Ashamed of himself; ashamed of who and what he was… and that was something he had never felt before, not in all of his years as an outcast from his family, or an oddball at school. Once, he had been proud to be with Remus, wanting to shout his affection out loud, but now… Now, it was somehow becoming a thing he felt compelled to hide.

Sirius was changing, and while both boys knew it, they remained resolutely silent, even while they kissed, even after they'd finished making love in the early hours of the afternoon, hot and sweaty on Remus' eighteenth birthday. It was all so wrong, so confusing, as they both gave way to the love they still had, the desires they still possessed, but both becoming more and more aware of how wrong the relationship was. Even as they smiled toward one another, gathering their things to meet for dinner at their friends', Remus had a sudden realization. As Sirius buttoned his shirt, hiding away the tattoo symbolizing their connection, and Remus felt his own neck ache with pain, he wondered if they would have another year together to celebrate this day; the anniversary of their first kiss.

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So sad...

Tell me what you think? Are you as sad as me...? Sorry again that it's been a few days!


	14. Chapter 14

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

**I'M SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS SO SHORT.** Seriously, this is the shortest chapter EVER, but it had to be this way for the storyline. I promise it will make sense in a few chapters! The breaks had to go in here. But I will update super soon!

Reviews make me happy when I am mopey and I love you all you for it.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**14**

"What _happened_ to you?"

Matt was gasping even before he had reached Remus in the back corner of the shop, throwing his papers down on the table. Remus smiled rather weakly at him. He knew he wasn't looking his best. Lily, who hadn't had much more success than James had the day before, trying to help his broken bones heal, had fashioned him a sling for his uninjured arm, worn in an attempt to immobilize his neck. He was wearing a cardigan, which concealed his scarred arm, but the v-neck shirt he wore underneath did nothing to hide the purple and yellow bruises crossing the area. To top it off, the four friends last night, in an act of celebration as well as attempting to drown out emotions, had had quite a bit to drink, and Remus was feeling the effects of the morning after. He supposed he must look it too, as Matt gaped at him, taking his usual seat. "You look… like shit."

"Thanks," responded Remus sarcastically, putting the final note on a letter to his parents with his free arm. "I feel like it as well, if you must know."

"You get in a fight or something?" Matt asked, surveying him critically.

"Um… kind of," said Remus, who was too tired, and too hung over, to think of a more clever excuse. "It's kind of a long story."

"I'll bet…" Matt muttered, staring incredulously at him. "What does Sirius think, then?"

"What do you mean?" asked Remus hastily, stuffing his letter into an envelope.

"I mean—he's bound to notice you all beat up. Has he been good about it, or—?"

"Oh—" Remus faltered. There was no way he could tell Matt that, while this was the worst of he'd ever been, that he was used to injuries. "He's been fine." He couldn't even tell Matt that, in reality, it had been Sirius himself to administer the blows that his broken his bones…

Matt continued to squint at him. It was as if he were sizing up, analyzing him, and Remus wished he could shrink away from the judging gaze. His head was pounding, and he wanted nothing else but to leave early, go home, and take a nice, long nap. However, Matt cleared his throat, and Remus felt a sudden sense of foreboding.

"I've been thinking," he said delicately, as if he were carefully picking his words, "it doesn't seem as if your boyfriend is really… doing the right things."

Remus stared, confused, at him. Matt couldn't possibly now about the complexities of their relationship—he didn't know, obviously, that Remus was a werewolf, and therefore he couldn't explain things like transformations, pain, and complex friendships. However, Matt was speaking very matter-of-factly now, as if he somehow knew more than Remus had told him; despite only really knowing Sirius through what Remus had said. "It just seems like the things you say about him," he went on, hastily, seeing the mystified expression on Remus' face, "I mean, all those late nights _working…_ it just kind of seems like he's never around to me… he doesn't sound like the guy you described to me. I thought you said you two were best friends."

"We are," said Remus, who was having trouble finding his voice. "He's just been working hard, is all, I can't blame him for that…"

"All I'm saying is—" Matt went on, pressing forward, "Best friends—boyfriends—they don't let the people they care about look like you do right now. I would _never _let my boyfriend go to work with a broken collarbone…" he moved slightly closer in toward Remus, who stiffened as Matt laid his hand on his. "If I had a boyfriend like you, that is."

Remus drew back from him, as if he had just touched a hot stove. "It's not like that," he insisted, hastily avoiding the other boy's eyes. "I…" but he couldn't find what to say, not with Matt staring at him like that, not with the voices inside his head telling him that Sirius _was _different. "I've got to go," he mumbled, "go home. I'm closing up early. I feel like shit."

Matt, whose hand was still resting in the same place, wordlessly rose from his seat across from him, scooping up the things he'd lain on the counter. For a moment, he looked as though he were about to speak again, but instead, he walked toward the front of the store, turning around only when he reached the door.

"If he really was who you say… It seems like he's changed," he said bluntly, "and maybe you should too."

And then he vanished, leaving Remus standing, alone, amongst the towering stacks of books, now more distressed than ever.

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**ONCE AGAIN, I AM SORRY IT'S SO SHORT... **but it had to be this way for the break up of activity.. you'll see! I plan to update really soon but...

more reviews = faster update!

I'm evil : )


	15. Chapter 15

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

**warning.** Possibly, this is the saddest chapter ever.

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**15**

_Crash._

Groggily, Remus opened his eyes, blinking as it trying to fill the dim room with light. He sighed, but he wasn't overly surprised to find himself where he was; laying, spread-eagle on the second-floor mattress, stirred from his accidental nap by whatever—Sirius, he assumed—was making so much noise downstairs. After leaving Matt, and the store in town, he had only meant to lie down for a few minutes, hopefully to clear his pounding head, and, clearly—as Remus now struggled to sit up somewhat—he must have fallen asleep. From the sounds downstairs, and the absence of all light from the room, Remus estimated he had been out for quite some time.

** "**Sorry!" Sirius' familiar voice called from downstairs, and Remus shook his head, curling up against their pillows and letting his eyes close once more, feeling the seemingly empty space in his chest began to fill up with dread as he heard him begin up the stairs.

Remus hardly dared to believe, or ever listen to what Matt had been saying. The only truth he had been able to draw from their discussion was his last statement—that Sirius had changed. Sirius had grown up. And Remus, who was still sickly, still dangerous, still a _werewolf_… had not. Now was the time to apologize. Now was the time to tell Sirius that, all those many months ago, when Remus had first given in to his desire for love… he had been wrong.

Delicately, he pulled himself up a little in bed, back against the wall. Sirius' footsteps had slowed now, as he reached the top step. Sirius clearly thought Remus asleep, as he was making more efforts than usual to remain silent. However, as Sirius stepped quietly in, the two locked eyes, each as surprised as the other.

"Sirius…" was all he could say, his mouth agape. As the man moved in beside him, switching on the bedside lamp, Remus realized just how late in the evening it was; the light casting the only dim glow in the room. Sirius stood awkwardly beside the bed. "You… you…"

Sirius sighed. As if were just as shocked, he ran a hand over his dark hair, which was now cut shorter than Remus had ever seen it before.

Surely as an act of rebellion when he was younger, Sirius had always had long, dark hair. By the time they were teenagers it had bypassed his chin, and now, at eighteen, he had kept it even longer, growing past his shoulders. He was a rare sort of person to look masculine with hair long enough to pull into a ponytail, but Remus loved it—the dark locks falling down on his face as Sirius leaned over to kiss him, running his hands through the waves of hair to pull him even closer. James had given him endless grief about his appearance (though, with his mop of jet-black hair, he really had no room to talk) but Remus had never seen Sirius any other way… until today, at least.

"Why?" Remus found himself saying, "its just—_why?" _Sirius had loved being different than everyone else; he loved the way he looked. Not once, in all the years they had known each other, had Sirius doubted his appearance. His confidence was what enabled him, as a younger student, to date whatever girl he pleased, and even Remus found himself drawn to Sirius' unfailing assurance… standing in the shower, not bothering to close the door; coming downstairs in the morning with bed head and morning breath, and still managing to look sexy…

Sirius shrugged, sitting down on the bed beside him. As it had when it was longer, his hair swept across his forehead, but now, it ended so soon that Remus could see his ears; his neck. "I needed to look more… professional."

"Somebody told you that you had to change the way you look?" Remus asked him, horrified.

Sirius shook his head. "No—not directly, anyway, but… well, you should see them, Remus. It's amazing how much I stick out."

Remus didn't know what to say. Never before had he heard Sirius speak about not fitting in, at his new job or in any other situation. He had always been independent, always an individual, and never, _never_ had he cared what others had thought about him. Sirius had never let anyone tell him to do anything, especially not when it came to how he felt about himself… but obviously… something had changed. The question that Remus _really_ felt like asking—"who _are _you?"—died in this throat, though, as he continued to watch Sirius, who was still sitting beside him, averting his gaze. His hand was still running over the back of his neck, and the somewhat dull, flat look in his eyes suggested to Remus that he had just suffered a great personal loss.

Now was the moment. This was not the Sirius he knew.

"Sirius…" Remus said, again, and finally, Sirius looked into his eyes, and Remus felt the sense of panic rise in his stomach, clawing to get out. However, before he could say another word, Sirius exploded.

"I'm an asshole, Remus," he murmured miserably, "I've been such an idiot."

"What are you saying?" asked Remus, his curiosity getting the best of him, "you're not, you're—"

"I _am._" Sirius looked as thought he were a wild animal; he was gripping the sheets below him with such an intense hold that Remus thought they might tear. "_Look_ at me, Remus. I've been… selfish."

"You haven't been the selfish one," Remus insisted, "I—"

"No, I have," Sirius cut him off again, "look at how I've changed for them. Look at my clothes! Look at my _hair…" _he let out something of a moan, grasping the short, dark locks in one hand.

"You've just had to… look more professional… Like you said, Sirius…"

"But it's not just that," Sirius seemed almost feverish now. He didn't want to say, but he had too, he had to tell Remus about the lies. Looking at the boy before him—arm in a sling, dark circles under his eyes—he felt as though he might combust. How could he have done this? How could he have hurt the boy any more than he already had—physically, emotionally…?

"I've been lying," he said hurriedly, and horribly, feeling the words fall out of his mouth as if they were heavy weights. "And not just a little, Remus. They think… they think I have money, and—and a house, and…" he sighed heavily, "a girlfriend and… I didn't tell them about _you."_

"Why would you?" Remus found himself saying. His own confessions were aching to get out; his guilt, and his shame, pouring into the room, filling it an almost unbearable degree. "Certain things are… expected with your job, we both know that—"

"_No,_ Moony, listen to me!" Sirius said, frustrated. "I made up a _new life. _I didn't need too, but I did! All because I was stupid—and selfish—and, for some dense, fucking reason I actually cared what those Ministry drones thought of me! I wanted to be like them!"

"It okay," Remus muttered, "I don't care—"

"You have to care!" Sirius yelled, "Remus, I was so late the other night because _I _was too afraid—too, bloody selfish to tell them the truth, and look at what happened as a result!" He grabbed Remus' cut arm in one hand. "Look at your arm! Look at your _neck! I did it, Remus._ I had to do it, because _I _made you angry. I love you more than anything, and yet look at what I've done… Lied about us, forsaken you… and," he cleared his throat, clearly trying not to succumb, "beaten you up… I—I've _broken your bones…"_

"No," said Remus, before he could think, "No, Sirius, you're the one who doesn't understand. This is wrong. All of this, this is all wrong. I shouldn't have let it go this far. I… shouldn't have forced you to be this involved."

For once in his life, Sirius seemed at a loss for words. He gaped at Remus, not daring to believe that he was saying these words, after he had just confessed his sins, after he had admitted how he'd thrown Remus, and his love, away like some sort of discarded trash. Remus took advantage of this momentary silence, pressing onward, now unable and unwilling to keep his thoughts only to his head.

"I don't… blame you, for lying," he reiterated, "Or hurting me, at all. I know why you had to do both of those things. I'm the one who put you in this situation, Sirius. I'm the one who forced you to change. I told you—I told you last year, I told you this wasn't being fair to you. I _should _change like this… you _need_ to change like this. You should have a life, Sirius… a better life. I told you then… I can't let you give everything up like this."

"No—Remus, this is my fault!" Sirius bellowed. He seemed unable to control his voice, his reactions, as his gray eyes were burning bright, more fierce than Remus had ever seen them before. "How can you talk like that? Be angry with _me! _I fucked up, not you! I don't_ want_ to change, Remus, I want _you."_

Remus shook his head, but Sirius pressed onward, "Please, _please, _I know I've been so stupid, but you can't think like this!"

"I don't deserve you," he said tonelessly.

"You deserve someone _better_ than me!" Sirius grabbed his face, holding him there, "have you been listening to me at all? I'm a liar, Remus—a fraud!"

"You don't understand—the guilt, I feel, every day, in forcing you to be with me—"

"REMUS!" Sirius seemed to complete lose control now. Tears were running down his face like rivers, but he did nothing to stop their flow, nothing to tidy himself up in the least. "I know I've made mistakes—I'm _making _mistakes, but you've got to believe me. You _deserve_ someone who loves you. I know it doesn't seem like me right now, but I swear, I _swear _I do, and I'm begging you… please, give me that chance, Moony… I can make it up to you…"

It was, once more, a tornado of emotions in Remus' chest. Sirius was crying, but Remus' eyes were dry. He wanted Sirius more than words could ever say, but now that the truth was out, he could hardly go back. He was almost relieved to know that Sirius had a new life, a double life, because it was something he had been feeling, been wondering about, for a long time, and now, finally, he knew. He hadn't been lying. He didn't blame Sirius for not telling the truth…

"Do you _want_ this to end?" Sirius asked him, in barely more than a whisper.

"No," said Remus honestly, "no, I don't, Sirius, but I—"

"_I _messed up," repeated Sirius, "don't go putting this guilt on yourself. I promise, I can fix this."

Now, the tears were beginning to run down Remus' pale cheeks, and he looked up into Sirius' face. They were still sitting beside each other on the bed—Sirius had his hands on Remus' face. He looked frantic, desperate for _something_ to happen. It was impossible to resist—Remus lifted his face toward Sirius' and kissed him, tasting the salt of their mingled tears, feeling the desperation of his embrace, the undeniable need of his kiss…

As they drew apart, Remus stared into his dark, gray eyes—so full of need, of hope that, maybe, possibly, they could work this all out. Sirius' eyes, willing him to believe that he was worth it, that he really did care, despite his lies, his betrayal…

"You can't fix _me, _Sirius," he whispered, and, despite his better judgment, felt himself pulling him into an embrace once more.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Just cried a little.


	16. Chapter 16

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Love on the rocks! They're not broken up but... rocky, for sure. Very depressing. Thanks for all the comments!

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**16**

Sirius was gone when the screech owl, tapping its beak on the bedroom window, awoke Remus in the early afternoon. It seems like some rubbish was always waking him up, thought Remus ruefully, as he clumsily made his way across the room, opening the window to let the bird soar in.

The past few weeks had been some of the worst of Remus' life. After the Monday where he and Sirius had stayed up the entire night, trying to figure out where to go from there, Remus had lapsed into near-silence, Sirius being the only one really speaking. Both were unwilling to really go, but, for both of their very different reasons, it seemed to be obvious that, soon, one of them must leave. Despite their guilt, despite their lies, they clung on—Remus found himself, in the dead of night, moving closer to the motionless form of Sirius, but in the morning, they drew apart again, both trying to ignore the other's red-rimmed, sleepless eyes. Remus had taken off the day from his job, sending an owl to Doris, the shopkeeper, and he avoided most contact with Matt since their discussion, who hadn't come into the shop nearly as much. He spent most of his time sleeping, or trying to sleep; occasionally packing up things and then unpacking them again. Sirius seemed to be trying to make efforts to repair his lies—begging with Remus to stay, attempting to squash his feelings of inadequacy, but Remus felt numb to his pleas. With each passing day, he grew more and more angry with himself for lacking the strength to do what he knew was really right: go.

Taking the letter from the owl, Remus' feelings of dread only grew. He recognized the handwriting on the outside—it was from his mother, who, since he had come to live with Sirius, he regularly wrote too, though he never said much of substance. He had, however, felt that he was obligated to tell her about each month's transformation, and though he'd left out many details, she would have gotten the general picture of his last one. Now, he unfolded the note addressed to him. _Things can't get any worse,_ he thought glumly, as he began to read his mother's words.

_Dear Remus,_ she began, and Remus took a deep breath:

_Your father and I were so upset to hear about what happened over the last full moon. As you know, neither of us have much experience in healing bones, so I can only offer you the advice of every mother: rest, and try and eat something for once._

_ We'd like to come and visit you. I can't believe we haven't seen where you are living, and it would be nice to see your friend Sirius again… He was so polite last summer. We'll be by Saturday – bringing your late birthday gift, of course. Looking forward to seeing you then._

_Love,_

_Mother_

"Oh… no…" muttered Remus, turning over his mother's note in his hands, as if she might have written _"just kidding!"_ on the back. "No, no, no…"

"What's up?" asked Sirius quietly from behind him, and Remus whirled around, one hand still clutching the note. He must have just walked in—home, for once, a little early. At the horrified look on Remus' face, he moved in closer, looking as though he were about to touch him, but then thought better of it. It was amazing how they had gone from best friends to what felt like strangers in a matter of days. Remus longed to take his hand, to give in… "Everything okay?"

_Nothing's okay,_ Remus felt like saying, but instead he told him: "My parents… they're coming by Saturday."

"Tomorrow?" asked Sirius, surprised. "But that's a good thing, isn't it? I'm sure they've been wanting to see you…"

Remus shook his head. He turned away from Sirius again, staring, once more, out the window. The sun was setting far off into the distance. In the approaching fall, the trees around their land had grown beautiful with their autumn colors; reds, yellows, and ambers perfectly reflected in the pools of Remus' eyes. Just this morning, he had walked through those trees; sat amongst the too-long grass and wished, wished fervently for a time that had only been a few weeks ago. Why did his family have to come now, when everything was so jumbled? Couldn't they have come back in June, or a month from now, when Remus had decided what to do, or what he was willing to lose?

"No, this isn't a good thing, Sirius," he took a deep breath, then turned back again to face him. "I never told them about… any of this."

"Oh," said Sirius simply. Remus felt a small sense of satisfaction knowing that, as a result of Sirius' discrepancies, there was no way he could be mad about this, despite the fact that he seemed surprised. "Well… we just won't tell them, then, will we?" he tried to finish brightly, attempting something of a smile.

"I'm pretty sure they'll find out," said Remus flatly. He gestured to the room around them, messy with their spread-about things. Downstairs was no different—the house was covered with their possessions, all in various states of disarray. The bedroom in which they stood was the same as when they had moved in; a jumble of mismatched furniture and no bedframe; their shared closet cramped with clothes. Remus sighed again, looking around. "I mean… we only have one bed."

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

If there was one thing he was grateful for the next day, it was Sirius' unfailing ability to be charming, even in the most nerve-wracking of situations. Remus' mother and father were scarcely inside their cramped home for a minute before Sirius had them both on the couch with glasses of wine, smiling broadly at whatever story he was telling. Remus was reminded vividly of the summer before, when Sirius' stay at his parent's home had changed them in the same way—there was something about the boy that charmed them. Perhaps, then, when Remus finally told them the truth, they maybe wouldn't be so upset…

His smile felt extremely tense on his face as he passed his mother a plate of chocolate. Almost in a frenzy the night before, he had sent Sirius out to the store on his bike, running around the house himself in an attempt to tidy up somewhat. He could feel his heartbeat rising in his throat… surely, they must notice something was odd, the way that Sirius kept casting sidelong glances at him…

"You don't look good, Remus," his mother admitted to him, gazing rather sadly at her son, whose expression remained blank. "Does it still hurt?"

"Oh—" said Remus, realizing she was talking about his neck, and arm, which was still in a sling. "No," he lied, changing position and hitching what felt like a pleasant expression back on his face. "I feel fine. Really." He avoided looking at Sirius, who had turned, guiltily, away.

"Well, are you going to show us the rest of the place?" asked his father, who was looking, amused, around at Remus' many stacks of books. Instantly, the panic inside Remus' chest began to rise, nearing choking him. He tried to clear his throat, but even that act felt pained. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and finally, with difficulty, he spoke.

"About that," he said, gazing down at his clasped hands, "I feel as though… I should probably tell you something."

They looked curiously toward him, and Remus found that his mouth was dry. The knees on which he rested his palms were shaking, and he concentrated on remaining calm. _Tell them… _he told himself, _just tell them…_ "Sirius… and I…" he began. "We… weren't not…"

"Mrs. Lupin… Mr. Lupin," Sirius suddenly interrupted, holding out a hand to silence Remus, whose voice seemed to have quit working. "Remus has become… a very important person to me." He looked toward Remus, and who saw a painfully familiar expression flit across his eyes. As if unable to help himself, Sirius reached toward him, using a single finger to draw down his cheek, and then he spoke again: "We are… well, _I_ am very much in love with your son."

All three sets of eyes turned at once toward Sirius, who, now that he had drawn back from Remus, sat alone. His clean, well-fitting button-up shirt and short, dark hair didn't look a thing like himself, but his voice echoed with a confidence that could only be Sirius Black. Remus stared at him, horrified, and yet oddly awed, as he continued to speak.

"I'm sure this is a bit of a shock," he went on, looking more toward Remus, instead of the two adults he was addressing. "I don't think either of us wanted it to tell you this way. But… though I haven't necessarily treated him as he should be treated these past few weeks…" his gray eyes were burning into Remus', who wanted to turn away, but found himself unable too. "I do care about him very much. He really is an extraordinary person."

He said these last words to Remus, and Remus alone.

"Yes, he is," said Remus' mother clearly, and Remus felt his head jerk across the table, to look at her. She was gazing toward him not with anger, nor with surprise, but rather, something akin to pity. His father reached toward her, taking her hand, but she did not break her gaze from her son, instead, she looked simply tired, as if she had aged a great number of years in only the past few seconds.

"Do you… love _him_?" she asked, as if Sirius weren't in the room, as if he wasn't sitting right beside Remus, as if the two weren't on the verge of ending whatever relationship they had. Looking again toward Sirius, Remus bit his lip. He didn't know what would happen next week, tomorrow, or even that night, but he couldn't lie any longer.

"Yes," he admitted, and he felt Sirius move slightly beside him. His mother sighed. "I'm sorry—I know this isn't what you wanted, but… I do."

There was a long silence that stretched across the entirety of the room. Sirius seemed to, every second, open and then close his mouth, as if he wanted to add something, but couldn't quite figure out what to say. Finally, his father spoke, clearly, and carefully, as he always had done.

"Over these past few months," he said slowly, "your mother and I have seen… a great change in your behavior. I don't know what kind of treatment Sirius is referring too, but if this… relationship… has been the cause of your happiness…" he cleared his throat, then spoke again, "if his… _love… _has made that happen… Well, then I can hardly object."

"What?" asked Remus, startled out of his thoughts. "Aren't you angry? Didn't you… want something different?"

"Remus," said his mother, gracing him with a small, rare smile. "We just want someone to treat you right… the way you should be treated."

Remus managed a weak grin, but he avoided looking toward the boy at his side, as he knew, both of them, had they looked into each other's eyes, would have not been able to avoid another breakdown.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Sad.

But - I finished the third one yesterday, so I can begin posting that as soon as I finish with this one!

Also - I'm still hoping to reach my goal of **250 reviews... **A lofty goal but... can you guys help meee? I love you all.


	17. Chapter 17

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

The best chapter! My favorite chapter! **THE BEST CHAPTER I'M SO EXCITED!**

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**17**

_Breathe in._

He inhaled, holding the breath in for a moment before letting it slowly out again. _Good,_ Remus told himself, _Good, now just do it again… _If he didn't focus on _something,_ the overwhelming sense of dread would begin to overtake him again, and he needed to be alive, he needed to be ready for the night before him. At this point, there were only a few things he was certain about concerning this approaching full moon: one was that, as always, he _would_ turn into a werewolf, and the other was that, no matter what happened with Sirius the next day, this night would mark a huge change for the both of them.

_Breathe out,_ he thought, _again…_

He had told Sirius not to come. The visit from his parents, by all conventional standards, had been quite uplifting, but somehow the mention of their feelings on Remus' treatment had made him even more sure of his decision. Despite what they said, or what Sirius said, things needed to change. There was no debating that, over the past months, Remus had been happier than he had in his entire life—but Sirius could be happy, _happier, _without him. Sirius could grow. Sirius could change. But this, this monthly, hazy, horror of a curse would never change, and that made all the difference.

For the second time, Remus walked out into the vast fields without Sirius. Though there was plenty of time before the sun set, and the moon began to rise, he wanted to be outside; alone, and with nature. Remus hadn't been through a transformation alone in several years; and those he had undergone, at Hogwarts as a young teen, had been some of the worst. It would be very painful, and he needed to prepare himself. As he spread out his things around himself, sitting down on the grass, Remus, once again, focused on his breathing. _In and out… in and out…_

If he concentrated hard enough, if he thought enough about the physical pain that would soon overtake his body, maybe, just maybe, he could block out the pain of his throbbing heart.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

Although he'd told himself not too, it had been impossible for Sirius not to check his watch nearly every ten minutes. All day long, even during the early morning hours, he looked, mentally counting down the minutes until it would be dark again. _Four hours to go… three hours… two hours…_

What had he even done today? What work, as he sat amongst his peers, had he completed that afternoon? All he could think about was Remus, knowing that, in the afternoon, he had still been sitting in that bookshop, wondering, a few hours later, how it had been when he'd gotten home, and now, with an hour to go, he was nearly frantic to know if he had slipped outside yet… if he was wondering where Sirius was, if he had _really_ wanted him gone.

The only thing that had kept him, the whole day—the whole_ month_—sane was sheer necessity. He simply _couldn't_ break down in a place like this, not with all eyes upon him 24/7, not with Kevin breathing down his neck like some sort of overbearing mother hen. He'd gone through the motions like everyone else, raising his hand when he needed too, completing assignments that needed to be done… but not really thinking, not really awake in the sea of what he now realized, were all the same faces. He followed in the crowd to the same places, he laughed at the same jokes… but with each passing hour, they were becoming more like fish, and Sirius longed to swim upstream; against the current. Without thinking, he laid a hand on his own chest, knowing that, just underneath the tie he'd clumsily done himself, was a mark, a permanent brand of what he thought he was committed too. He felt strangely out-of-body, as if he were seeing himself from far, far away… as he rose from his seat, ready to follow Kevin into one of their tests, ready to do as Remus had requested, and stay so late that by the time he got home, a werewolf would already be loose among the grounds. Perhaps he would not come home at all tonight…

And instantly, as Sirius fingers touched lightly upon his collarbone, it came back to him, like a flash of lightening.

_Lying in the grass with Remus, yearning to grab his hand… Seeing the desperation, reflecting off his golden eyes, the lit cigarette cutting a path between them—leaning in for that first kiss, like an electric shock, knowing it was wrong, but praying he wouldn't stop… Remus' face in the common room, lit by the fire, his skin, his hands, his mouth, his chest, his face—their bodies meeting together in perfect harmony; sweat; violin; moans—His smile, his real, first smile; the sound of his laughter, like falling rain—sleeping together in the open air of their bedroom, murmuring "I love you" before they fell asleep—his eyes, his touch, his voice—_

"I can't do this," Sirius heard himself mutter, and his hand dropped down to his side. "I can't do this," he repeated, and he turned away from the group, who were now preparing to leave out a side door. Kevin stared at him, but he brushed roughly past him, snatching up his bag, and jacket from the chair he had left them on. "I've got to go," he said frantically, "I can't let him leave."

"What are you talking about?" asked a shocked Kevin, "Sirius—we've got this _now_—"

"No," said Sirius, and though he was shaking, he was shocked to find that his voice rang out, as clear as a bell. "No, I'm not doing it anymore. I have more important things to do."

"You can't leavenow, they'll kick you out!" Kevin exclaimed, grabbing his arm, as if to stop him from leaving, "What could _possibly_ be more important right now?"

"Remus," said Sirius, and it was like he was coming out a fog, a daze that was rapidly lifting from over his eyes. He was like a man possessed, wrenching his arm out of Kevin's grasp.

"Who the _hell_ is Remus?" he gasped, as Sirius made his way quickly to the door, pulling it open.

"He's my _boyfriend,"_ said Sirius clearly, loud enough that the people nearest the doorway turned to him, but his eyes, burning bright and clear now, saw none of their shocked expressions. "My boyfriend…" he said again, "The best thing I've ever known… And I… I have been a complete, and total idiot."

With that final note, and the look of many stunned faces, he slammed the door, sprinting off toward the Ministry's main floor.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

He was startled to see how dark it was when he reappeared in the hall's main entrance, immediately dropping his things to the ground. Just like the month before, he ran into the dark, empty kitchen, hoping he was there—

"Remus!" he yelled, but his voice echoed strangely around the room, and without a second thought, he wrenched open the back door, kicking off his too-tight dress shoes to run faster, pulling off his suffocating layers of corporate wear, flinging them behind as he ran, sprinting faster than he ever had in his life. He shed his image, his lies, even his years as he bolted across the grass; he left it all behind as he simply ran. Remus had been barely a dot on the horizon from the view of their house, but he was coming into clearer and clearer focus now—he still had several minutes before sunset, time to beg, time to get there, sooner than he had last time. "Moony!" he yelled, again, for the boy, who was sitting amongst the grass, and in the next second, he was there. He hurled himself toward the ground, collapsing at his feet—

"Why are you here?" said Remus, frantic, "I told you to go—"

"You're not getting rid of me," growled Sirius. He was panting, his breath, shallow, but somehow, he felt more alive, more _awake… _knowing that now was the time; now was the moment to tell Remus how he felt. Now was the moment to tell him everything

He wouldn't lose him. He _couldn't _lose him.

"Look at you!" gasped Sirius, "waiting, for this, like it's your deathbed! But you don't _know_ how strong you are… You tell me—you tell me this is never going to change; you tell me this is how it always will be—but I don't care, Remus! _I don't care!_" He could hear the desperation growing in his own voice, the horrible need to make Remus understand, and he had to continue, he had to go on: "_I'm_ the fuckup in this relationship, and I—I should never be with someone as decent and as honest and as beautiful as you but… you—you picked me! And I can't let that go!"

"You have too," muttered Remus, "you have to succeed. Have a job. Have a future!"

"I left," Sirius told him, and Remus looked stunned. "Told them I needed to be with you… and I do; I do need you," he said desperately, "I _need _you. I need everything about you—your morning breath and your scars and your fucking full moon transformations—all of it. I can't live without it. Please," he grabbed his hand, pleading with his eyes, desperate for the night to hold off, another minute, just another minute… "I love you, Remus."

"I love you too," whispered Remus, "But—"

"But nothing!" bellowed Sirius, grasping his face between his palms, "Don't give me that shit, Moony! _Nothing _in my life has meant more than me to you."

A choked sob was all that found its way from Remus' mouth—his eyes, instantly blurred; but they were shut almost immediately as Sirius kissed him, as hard and intensely as the first they'd ever shared; a kiss that was so right… that somehow, nothing could be wrong any longer. Sirius was still holding onto his face, keeping him locked there, but Remus could no longer resist. He was melting into him, letting himself bleed, letting himself become a whole, instead of just one half. His hands, his lips, were erasing the weeks and weeks of debating, the ages of pain, the horrible, relentless feelings of worry he had squashed for so long…

And Remus found that he was kissing him back, and that he no longer felt any guilt—he was kissing him, tasting him, feeling him, and he felt right. He was unmistakably, undeniable… home.

"I'm so sorry," Sirius murmured as they finally drew apart, "Remus—I'm so sorry, for everything…"

Looking toward him, Remus found his mouth forming into a pattern he had almost forgotten: a smile. Sirius' hands were callused on his skin; the disappearing sunlight cast shadows on to his face, illuminating the dark tracks of facial hair that crossed his jaw. The dark hair that swept over his forehead was short, and severely rumpled by his sprint, but he was gorgeous—so unbelievably beautiful. "I'm sorry, too," Remus found himself saying, "But… I think things are going to be okay."

"Remus, do you know what this full moon means?" Sirius whispered, gazing at him, "This time last year… I did the same thing – confessed, I mean… this full moon brought us together…"

Sirius grinned at him, and then—suddenly, Remus felt a jolt of pain shoot through his spine, down from his head to his feet. Sitting outside, crouched on the grass, he had almost forgotten—but then the second wave came, and he was curling onto the ground, Sirius frantically whispering to him, telling him he could do it, telling him to be strong…

It was excruciating—the bones, as always, splitting; his skin, stretching, hair sprouting across his chest and arms and back… his teeth grew into sharp, pointed, yellow-green fangs, eyes changing from amber to red and then back again; the voice that was not his own, beginning to howl, to scream into the night, begging for the pain to stop, to stop, _stopstopstop…_

And then... as the wind whipped quietly through the trees beside them… Remus' transformation until the full-grown, deadly werewolf was over. Lying beside him on the grass was a large, hairy black dog, who was staring up at him, wondering, with such a strange expression forming in its dark, charcoal gray eyes. Cautiously, slowly, the dog nudged the wolf with its muzzle. Edging slightly closer, his tongue flicked out, gently licking the creature, using a paw to guide him down to the ground again.

And somehow, _unbelievably… _the wolf obeyed.

As they settled down together, the werewolf, casting a final glance at the dog beside him, closed his eyes for the first time of all its many moons; opting, this time, to sleep besides its chosen partner.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**MY FAVORITE CHAPTER EVER!**

**I'm still going for my goal - 250 - and I hope this one will spark a lot of reviews because... it's so sappy and wonderfully cheesy.**


	18. Chapter 18Epilogue

**Finding Home**

**(the sequel to "No Better Mistake")**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

**NOTES:**

Listen to epic music while reading to get the full effect.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**18/Epilogue**

"Sirius… _stop,"_ growled Remus, attempting to wriggle away from the hands that held him in place. "Oh—wait—actually—no, keep doing that…"

Raising his head off of Remus' stomach, Sirius grinned. Planting another kiss, directly in the center of his chest, they both laughed. His hands may have, once again, been searching to amuse, but as usual, his mouth was not. Just as Sirius moved in closer, his fingers beginning to search out Remus' belt-buckle—the doorbell rang in the hallway.

Reluctantly, both boys breathed a sigh. Hopping off of his spot on the kitchen counter, Remus buttoned his shirt once more, as Sirius, casting an "I'm sorry" glance back at him, went to go answer the door. It was impossible to stay frustrated however, because within just a moment, Lily had drawn him up into a tight hug, and with James clapping him on the back, it was just like it always had been.

"You missed a button," she murmured in his ear as they drew apart again, and he blushed, quickly moving to fix his mistake.

Two weeks had passed since the last full moon. There had been fourteen glorious days of pain-free evenings, long nights spent talking, and, in both Remus and Sirius' cases, redemption. Curled up in their shared bed at night, they told each other everything: for Sirius, it was all his lies, all his previously hidden fears of being different… his incessant need to prove himself since he'd walked out of his parents house nearly four years ago. Remus felt as though he hardly needed to explain himself at all, especially because, every time he tried, Sirius would pull him into his arms, his hands finding his familiar pattern of stroking Remus' bare back, covering his body with so many, delicate kisses that he began to forget what he had ever been worried about in the first place.

Remus had gone, the very next day after their reconciliation to apologize to Matt, who, though he seemed disappointed, managed a smile. He hadn't come in the bookstore nearly as often since, which, in Remus' opinion, was probably for the best. He needed to brush up on his Defense Against the Dark Arts if he ever wanted to be a real teacher, and maybe—he had smiled wryly to himself at the thought—Matt would finally finish that novel he'd been working on for so long… or at least get a real job.

Sirius had, to everyone's shock (and relief), _not_ been kicked out of his program at the Ministry, though returning had been, in his words "unbelievably fucking awkward". A letter had been waiting for him the next dawn when Remus and himself returned to the house—stating simply that his test had been rescheduled, and, in a handwritten note toward the bottom, not to lose his "spunk". He had worn his battered Chuck Taylors to the office the very next day, and now, he ended his work hours in early evening—just in time to meet Remus in the kitchen as too, Apparated home.

Remus finally met Kevin—he, and his girlfriend, Nicole, had entered their home a week ago, slightly uneasy, but by the end of the night, and several bottles of wine later, Remus could have sworn he saw him winking to him, and he'd had to resist snorting into his glass. They'd left again in a mash-up of embraces and promises to "do this again, soon", and the two boys had collapsed again on the couch, a ball of laughter.

It was, Remus thought, ironically, like he _had_ been living in a dream… but a different dream than he had first known, back in early June. They had both grown up, and with growing up had come responsibilities, stress, and untruths… but, eventually, it had also yielded honesty, and love, as pure and as exciting as they both came.

Seated around their wooden table, all four faces, once again, flushed from laughter, Remus was drawn out of his deep thoughts. Lily, who was seated to his left, smiled at him, and then looked over at James. The look in her eyes was unchanged from the past year. Just as she had looked toward James, just minutes after his discovery of his friend's secret relationship, she gazed toward him now; her bright, emerald green eyes shining with a love, so true that Remus could have cried. James laid a hand upon hers, and they grinned at each other.

"We've decided to get married," Lily said simply, but the effect of her words was instantaneous. Sirius was hugging James, laughing; Lily, kissing Remus upon the cheek, all four friends rejoicing in a true, blissful moment. After the year they'd had, Remus knew only too well how rare, and how thrilling this type of love was—and as if he had sensed Remus' pausing moment, Sirius reached for him as well, pulling him into his familiar embrace.

He had begun this June with the hope of a new life; a new home, and he had gotten just that, but the address hadn't been the one he had imagined. He had found it, instead, inside the dark-haired, skinny boy that now held him tightly to his chest. He'd taken a few detours to find his way—that was for sure—and for a minute or so, it seemed as though he'd never find it but now; hearing the sounds of his friends around him, Remus realized he had made it back, and he had so much of life yet to experience. A wedding for his best friends… he grinned to himself at the thought—it was such a beautiful idea... As for himself and Sirius, he knew things were not perfect, and he knew it would take a long time and a lot of hard work to get there… However, in this moment, all he needed was _exactly _what he had: the feel of Sirius' hands around him, holding him close, and the prospect of tomorrow; a brand, new day to build, and grow into what he now knew was truly home.

**o o O O o o O O o o O O o o**

**THE END.**

Thanks for sticking with me! I don't think I'll reach my goal yet but I got darn close! You guys are the best!

**I'm going to start posting the third, and final story probably in the next week or so.**

**PLEASE AUTHOR ALERT ME IF YOU WANT TO READ IT!**

(I think it might be my favorite of the three...)


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